Sasori in the Soul Society
by The Masked Idiot
Summary: What happened when Sasori passed on? What if he ends up in the Soul Society? Who will he meet and what adventures will he encounter? No pairings. Adopted from ItsTrueIStalkYou.
1. Chapter 1

So as I think you should all know, this story has been adopted from ItsTrueIStalkYou who adopted it from Mystic Shadow Demon who in turn adopted it from Wednesday1990. Everything here that is chapter 17 and below belongs to the prior authors.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or Bleach or anything in chapters 1- 17 **

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Sasori in the soul society.

Chapter one:

Sasori stared his opponent down and tried to make sense of the situation. He was in the midst of fighting against the strangely perseverant pink-haired Konoha kunoichi and his grandmother, Chiyo. While Sasori did in fact have Chiyo out for the count, struggling to stay alive on the ground, he had a small problem. The girl, Sakura, remained fighting. Even though she was being impaled by a poison soaked sword she was healing herself! It really was extraordinary; the pain must have been agonizing as he gave a couple of twists to the sooth wooden hilt. In fact, the infuriating girl was even fighting him for control over the overgrown knife!

'So there's no point in trying to overpower her, huh?' Sasori thought to himself as he gave a few more fruitless tugs to his katana. 'All right, then...'

Sasori detached the upper part of his arm from his forearm to reveal a hidden blade and rushed at Sakura, his puppet joints making the tell-tale clicking noises that was usually a well-known signal of inevitable death.

"Die!" Sasori cackled as his eyes opened manically, the blade poised up high to stab the immobilized young girl in front of him. The kunoichi was staring at him with wide, doe-like eyes as her hands remained glued to the blade that Sasori had abandoned. Those hands seemed frozen to the weapon that was still impaled her through the abdomen, probably nicking one of her kidneys, as if she could not believe what was happening before her.

And with all honesty she probably couldn't.

The clicking grew ominously louder until... Sasori felt his puppet body still and his eyes began to blink rapidly with shock and confusion as he heard the splashing of blood on the ground. He looked at the girl who was still standing a few feet away from him then to his grandmother that was still panting pathetically on the floor.

"Wh-what?" Sasori managed to choke.

The forgotten puppets that could once be called his parents stood on either side of Sasori, and as they stared lifelessly ahead, their swords impaled him through his one weak point, through his heart. Sasori turned his head carefully to look at his mother, her soft facial features and her long, brown hair. Then, just as slowly to his father, with the hair that Sasori had inherited, although not the man's bulkiness. Then finally Sasori looked down to his impaled heart, the blades dripping blood so dark, it looked as purple as the poison he had once used to take the lives of some many.

"You left your guard down at the very end, Sasori," Chiyo coughed quietly to her grandson, her adversary.

"What?..." Sasori said, almost as if he didn't quite understand what had happened only moments before.

Sasori looked at the supposedly destroyed puppets his grandmother had been using. It was only then that he noticed the complex looking seal that had been surrounding him, only then that the weight of the situation was brought to light in Sasori's mind. Suddenly he coughed violently and a trickle of blood fell from his mouth. With a sigh Sasori closed his eyes for a moment and contemplated his situation before letting himself do something... somewhat stupid before his untimely end.

"I'll be dead soon, but before I go, I guess I'll do something pointless, too. Consider it a reward for defeating me," Sasori began to the shock of the two women before him. "You wanted to know about Orochimaru, didn't you?..."

He paused for what seemed like hours to the battle haggard warriors before continuing.

"In ten days time, go to the Bridge of Heaven and Earth in the Village of Grass at noon."

"What's there?" Sakura demanded, after she managed to gather her wits again, even then the shock had yet to truly wear off.

"I've got a spy working as one of Orochimaru's subordinates," Sasori explained, his voice growing fainter with each word that he spoke. "We were supposed to... rendezvous... there..."

Sakura continued to stare, waiting for more, until she realized that his time had ended, that Sasori of the Red Sands, master puppeteer, was dead. She grimly committed the information that she had received to memory and looked to the Sand village elder that was still staring at the now deceased Akatsuki member.

Chiyo continued to look at the scene in a shocked silence, her only grandchild was lying dead upon the ground next to his parents. The scene was almost as ironic as it was poetic. An image suddenly flashed before her eyes of when Sasori had been a small child, when she had first taught him how to create puppets.

His parents had been his first project and in the end, the result had been heartbreaking. The image of Sasori being embraced by puppet parents that could never give him the love that he truly desired, and the person that he had become because of that heart breaking attribute.

A part of her regretted having taught him the skill, but she knew that their fates had been set long ago. The gears had been working against them long before it had truly begun to affect all their lives and it would continue after this. Chiyo stared at the young girl in front of her and thought of her young teammate that was trying so hard to save someone who wasn't even a part of the girl's village.

"It's over, Chiyo-baasama," Sakura smiled at her sadly. "I knew you could do it."

Chiyo closed her weary eyes and released a fatigued sigh.

"No, I'm the one who should've been killed. Sasori saw through my last attack, but for some reason, he didn't try to dodge. He left himself open," she told her young companion.

"You don't think he..." Sakura began, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Sakura was trying to understand the enormity of what Chiyo was saying. How could have known all along what Chiyo was about to do? Why wouldn't he have blocked it? Her mind was spinning with the possibilities and she wondered if this was something she would just have to let go. After all, life seemed to exist to confuse everyone. It wasn't her place to try and figure out why he had done what he did. She just thanked whatever diety that may be out there, she thanked them for what Sasori had told her before he died, and prayed that it was what she had always wanted to know.

Chiyo didn't reply, but she knew what she had to do. What would be best for the future of her village and for everyone that lived there? Her only hope was that Sasori was in a better place now. Maybe, if there was any justice in this world, Sasori would be with her beloved son and his wife. And, perhaps, they would be at peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Same as what I said in chapter one :P**

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**Chapter two:**

Sasori blinked as a blinding field of white appeared before his eyes.

'Where am I?' he thought as he tried looking to the side. However, the white continued endlessly in all directions. At one point he thought he had seen a flash of red, but it disappeared before he could truly focus in on it.

He started moving through the ever consuming white that surrounded him, although not with his legs. He wasn't particularly sure how he was moving exactly or why he had any kind of sense of space, but he was positive he was moving forward.

He could remember no name to call himself nor could he recall how he had gotten to this seemingly empty place. He was sure that he had been doing something important though… Or at least it was something that should definitely be memorable… Monumental perhaps? Sasori shook his head as he tried to put his thoughts into order. He wasn't supposed to be here he was almost positive of that.

After what felt like hours of wading through the stinging white light, Sasori felt the dregs of impatience beginning to stir inside of him. This was something that felt familiar, the irritating feeling that lit a slow burning fire deep in his guts. Sasori latched onto this feeling and forced himself to rush through the space ahead of him… if that was even passible.

Finally, something yielded.

Sasori blinked his eyes and was immediately startled to find that he could actually feel his eyes along with the weight of his eyelids on top of them. He looked down and he saw the flesh of his hand and when he squeezed that hand into a fist, he felt the pressure of his nails scraping the soft skin of his palm. He felt a delirious pleasure when his feet suddenly felt the solidity of ground beneath them and his lungs tingle sleepily when he sucked in the shockingly cold air. Abruptly Sasori choked rather comically as everything that he had forgotten flooded back into his memory.

'I shouldn't be feeling any of this!' Sasori thought frantically, as he moved his newly discovered hands through the white that still surrounded him. '…What happened?'

Sasori had shed his mortal body long ago for the beauty of his puppet body and grown accustomed to the numbness that body brought to him though out the years. The only thing that had served as a reminder for his time as a human was the steady beating of his heart. However, now it seemed as if he had recovered all of his human functions, from the week flesh and irritating nerves to semi-strong bones and no removable limbs. Sasori could feel the irritation in him rising and as the white before him began to fade he clung to the sensation even more desperately.

Suddenly, it felt as if something had smacked him upside the head and the white that had been so overwhelming was suddenly replaced by an ominous black veil.

When he felt consciousness return to him, his face was pressed into the loose dirt that made up the earth around him. Sasori groaned as his nerves flared violently in pain and slowly he pushed himself up onto his elbows, trying to grow accustomed to the heaviness that was once again a part of his body. He shook as he attempted to settle his body weight onto his knees. The action failed while in progress and he slammed back into the dirt. He huffed in frustration as the grains of dirt dug themselves into his cheek.

Sasori tried a different route and began to use his hands to grip at the fabric that was clothing him. The texture was unfamiliar to him and the shape of it was similar to the yukata he had worn years ago during hot summer days.

Sasori managed to turn his head to the side and open his eyes fully. There was a blur of green and brown before his eyes managed to focus on their surroundings. It seemed as if he was lying on a dirt path in some sort of forest. His first thought was that he was in Konoha, but the trees weren't any that he recognized as being native to their many forests.

"Where am I?" Sasori wondered aloud, his voice raspy from disuse as he picked up his head and slowly inched his body upwards, mindful this time of his newfound weakness. He finally managed to pull himself up onto his knees, but he quickly fell backwards, planting his backside roughly onto the ground, his legs folded awkwardly at the knees by his sides.

Sasori groaned again as he rubbed the dirt from his cheeks and he looked down at the robe that he was wearing. The fabric was a pristine white, despite the fact that he had been flopping around on the ground like a dying fish for some time now. It was around this time Sasori felt his brow twitch with annoyance.

"Does being dead mean that you have to be surrounded by the color white?" Sasori questioned irritably at the sky, his voice still sounding like it belonged to his Hiruko puppet, even though he was obviously in his younger body.

Sasori plucked at the fabric, realized that he was wearing nothing underneath, and figured that he could do worse. Like showing up in the middle of nowhere with nothing on rather than with a flimsy white yukata, so he supposed that he could be grateful for that. But then again he would be Sasori if he was.

After some time, being that Sasori's patience had used itself up again, he decided that he had recovered enough to get up onto his feet. The amount of effort and time that he had to put into hauling himself up onto his feet was ridiculous for a shinobi of his caliber, but Sasori figured, though it may have only been an attempt to salvage his now bruised ego, that under the circumstances he could be excused for his lapse in coordination.

Sasori managed to stumble his way towards the side of the road and lean against one of the trees before he found that he had to sit once more and he curse at his ridiculously weak body.

'This is why I got rid of it in the first place,' Sasori thought as he lowered himself down onto the soft grass, his back supported by the rough bark of the tree.

Looking around at the landscape once more, Sasori searched for any signs of civilization. When nothing caught his eye, he huffed and thought for a bit. It seemed that he would simply have to pick a direction to travel in once his new fleshy body felt up to it. For what seemed to be the millionth time that day he felt another flash of annoyance pierce his stomach, forcing him to come up with some sort of plan on how to move on from there.

Nearby, Sasori found a sturdy looking stick, long enough to be that of walking stick for someone his size, and used to it to pull himself back up. Wincing slightly when he felt his stomach cramp in something else other than annoyance he deduced that it seemed he would also have to get some food for himself while he was at it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

Sasori ambled along the forest road, still leaning heavily upon the makeshift walking stick he had picked up before setting of. So far Sasori hadn't caught sight of any sort of town or even a random hut and unfortunately for him, he felt his constant friend, impatience, beginning to settle itself deep inside his gut once again.

Sasori glared at the road ahead of him then at the stick that he was forced to rely upon because he of a flesh body he had thought he had abandoned long ago. His pace was slow going and just when he was about to scream in frustration (a sight his former comrades would have paid dearly to see), Sasori heard the telltale creaking and clomping of a cart being pulled by some sort of livestock. Sasori hobbled to the side of the road, his feet only slightly more agile than when he had first begun his trek, and he grudgingly waited for the person to make their way toward his position.

Sasori hoped that, since it seemed he was dead, he wouldn't be recognized as some sort of criminal. It was obvious that he had managed not to land in hell (God only knew why) and hopefully the one driving a cart his way wasn't one of his many victims. It would be especially embarrassing to be caught like this. Lost, tired, hungry, and weak, Sasori sneered to himself. There could be no greater humiliation than being caught like this by someone who could truly hold it against him.

Luckily, it seemed that all of his hoping had paid off. Sasori was finally able to catch sight of a figure lazily guiding a fat donkey down the road, and the stooped figure didn't remind him of any of the people that Sasori had met in his fairly short life. Having an immortal body (except for one small part) was extremely helpful in running yourself more efficiently. After the initial transfer of himself from his mortal body to his puppet one, Sasori had experienced many perks like not having to listen to his everyday bodily functions, eating, drinking, sleeping, breathing, raging hormones etc... Also increased thought and memory processing was part of the deal and Sasori could proudly say that he never forgot random tidbits of information or the face of a person he had once met...or killed.

This old woman, Sasori noted, was no one that he had met before and he could safely flag her down for assistance with his pride fully intact. (Although he seemed to have developed a strange twinge in his chest at the sight of her, Sasori wondered what to make of it.)

"Excuse me," Sasori rasped, he coughed a little from the disuse of his voice, then frowned when the old hag didn't respond. 'Damn useless old women, why do they always have to show up where I am?'

"Excuse me," Sasori said a second time, his voice louder and clearer this time around. The old woman still didn't respond as she started to approach him. It even looked as if she was going to pass right by him. Sasori felt a twitch beginning to develop in his eyebrow muscles.

"Excu-"

"I heard you, young man," the woman said as she stopped her cart in front of him, the donkey braying softly before he began nibbling at some stray grass. "No need to repeat yourself."

She observed him from under a wide straw hat, her dark eyes studying him. Sasori wasn't sure of what she saw, but he took the time to study her as well. The wrinkles marring the planes of her face were deep, although not as bad as the ones that Chiyo had managed to acquire in the time that he had been gone. However, her eyes were clear and sharp, looking at him objectively as he stood with an unsteady gait at the side of the road. She was wrapped in a dark brown traveling cloak, flung carelessly over her shoulder.

"You a new soul?" She asked him, her eyes looking at his thin, white robe critically. "Or is that some new fashion statement?"

Sasori felt his eye twitch a little more, although he tried to hide it by ducking his head a little. It would do him no good to upset this woman when he needed her help. He would just have to play along.

"Yes," Sasori answered. "I believe so. I woke up in the middle of this road a while back. Would you be willing to help me?"

The old woman looked at him critically again once more and scoffed rudely.

"Why are they always so young nowadays?" she said to herself.

Sasori held his tongue about his true age. If his youthful appearance helped him in this case, he would be forever grateful to whatever gods that represented the superficial in people.

"Well, young fellow, it seems you've got no place to go and no one to tell you about the ways of our world. Since the shinigami around here are damn useless, I figure it might as well be me that introduces you to the Rukon district," she said, seemingly amused as she gestured for him to take a seat next to her.

"You seem a little unsteady on your feet though, need any help?" she gave him a toothy grin. Sasori glared and to prove himself independent of trivial things such as help. Therefore, he put in his best effort to walk smoothly to the cart, tossing his walking stick into the cargo load, and attempting to hoist himself up onto the seat next to the old woman.

"Whoa, there," the woman chided, the amused light never fading from her eyes. In fact, to Sasori's chagrin, the light only seemed to be getting brighter. "No need to push yourself."

Sasori felt himself being pulled into the cart by the back of his yukata as his first shaky attempt at pulling himself up failed miserably. Sasori huffed as he settled into his seat his pride slightly damaged. Not wanting to seem like an ungrateful brat, however, he gave her a jerky nod and started to communicate his discontent via glaring at the road. The woman's chuckling grated his nerves further, but she gave the donkey a light tap with a light stick of her own and they were moving soon enough.

"So, what's your name, young man?" she inquired, settling back into her seat.

Sasori paused in his glaring to glance at the old woman. Mentally, he shrugged, and figured that there couldn't be much harm in telling her. He wasn't quite sure how things worked after you had died, he hadn't really planned for any of this, but he figured telling her his name wouldn't hurt him too much.

"My name is Sasori," he told her curtly.

The woman raised an eyebrow at her new young friend.

"What? No surname?" she questioned. Sasori shook his head.

"Where I come from, surnames are uncommon. Although occasionally a person might develop a...nickname of sorts. More like an add on to your name than anything else," Sasori explained, seeing no problem in letting her know this. Anyone that lived in any of the elemental continents would be able to tell you this.

"Is that so," she said indulgently. "Have you got one of those then?"

"Who knows?" Sasori said shortly, not willing to share more than that. Although he was rather proud of his macabre little 'nickname', explaining it wasn't something he felt up to at the moment.

"Alright then," she conceded patiently. "I suppose it's only fair to tell you my name then, hm?"

Sasori gave her another side glance, this time accompanied by the slight elevation of one of his brows. The women let out another round of raspy chuckles.

"Nobuko Hirama's the name," she smiled as she gave the lazy donkey another prompting with her stick. The donkey had slowed down to munch on another stray growth of vegetation.

"Pleased to meet you," Sasori said stiffly.

"I'm sure," Nobuko answered, her voice having an easier quality to it. "So, aren't you curious?"

Sasori looked her way again and caught sight of the teasing quality that Nobuko had now in her eyes. Although Sasori didn't want to indulge her, he had to admit that he was quite curious.

"About what?" Sasori humored her.

"Well about the soul society, of course," Nobuko said as if he was silly child, asking a silly question. Sasori didn't even bother to react to her tone of voice anymore. Perhaps it would simply be best to treat her like he did Deidara; ignoring her until she said something useful.

"Soul society?" Sasori asked in his most polite voice. "I remember you said something about us being in the 'rukon' district, too."

"Yup," Nobuko affirmed. "The soul society is where souls go when they pass on. The rukon, or the wandering souls, district is where most, if not all, of us end up."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What happens after that? Do we die here and go on to some other plane of existence?" Sasori asked, his voice hold an impatient quality quite common with him.

"Never really thought about it, to tell you the truth," Nobuko admitted. "Folks don't age here the way that they do in the land of the living though. I'd say that we age about one year for ever 10-20 years depending on the person."

Sasori's eyes widened at the thought.

"How old are you?" he asked curiously. Nobuko raised an eyebrow.

"What? In addition to how old I was when I got here?" Nobuko said as she stared at the sky thoughtfully. "I don't really remember it very well. I wasn't too young when I got here. Might've been 80 years ago or so. I was well into my 60's by the time I kicked it so..."

Nobuko shrugged and nodded at Sasori who still looked a little dazed by the thought of anyone living for that long. Even if living was a term that should probably be used lightly in such a place. After all, very few lived for very long in the shinobi world. Only the extremely powerful or cowardly lived to see middle age.

"So how old were you? Fifteen? Sixteen?" Nobuko asked conversationally.

"Thirty-five," Sasori said with a smirk.

Nobuko's relaxed form suddenly tensed up as her body was wracked with surprised coughs cuasing Sasori to almost snicker at the hags reaction.

"Wh-what?" Nobuko turned her wide eyes to him again as she looked at his youthful features.

"Y-you can't be any older than seventeen," she protested. "At the most."

"I've often been told that I don't look my age," Sasori informed her, his voice having regained its usually apathetic calm.

"That's an understatement, boy."

When Sasori gave her another look, she scoffed.

"Don't give me that. Even if you are in your thirties, you're still but a lad compared to me boy." she said as her face darkened with a scowl.

Sasori shrugged at that and conceded to the truth of her statement. At well over a hundred years old, she was older than his old hag of a grandmother. In fact, she was probably older than his great-great-grandmother. At least this world allowed people to age slower. He had always believed that things that lasted forever were the things that had true worth. Even if it only seemed to be a type of longevity, it was still better than the world of painfully brief lives that he had left behind.

"And what about the shinigami that you mentioned before?" Sasori changed the subject to something more interesting.

"Hm?" Nobuko hummed before looking thoughtful again. "Oh, them. They live in the nicer part of Soul Society, in the Seireitei. Their job is mainly to ferry the souls of the dead here and to excise the souls of the souls that have lost their way, the Hollows. Or at least that's what they're supposed to do, the lazy good-for-nothings."

"Hollows?" Sasori tried to get her back on track.

"Oh, those. We don't see them around here really, but apparently the souls that tie themselves to the earth, and aren't excised by the shinigami, eventually lose their hearts, or something, and become soulless monsters," Nobuko explained. "Although that's just what I've heard. I've never seen any of this myself, so don't blame me if I'm wrong."

"Ah," Sasori said, thinking about this. This was all new to him, having never heard of a belief system that followed these kind of ideas. Another question came to him suddenly and he figured that he might as well ask while they were on the subject.

"Is there a hell?" Sasori asked.

Nobuko frowned in concentration, thinking hard on the subject, reviewing what she had heard in snippets of gossip or conversation.

"I think so," Nobuko said slowly as if unsure. "Of course, you wouldn't know it by the kind of riff-raff that comes through here. No one ever really stays to their assigned sections either. Although I'm pretty sure they just hand out those assignments randomly-"

"Assignments? Sections?" Sasori asked.

"Well, yeah," Nobuko said in voice that was very much 'well, duh.' "Didn't you get any of that before you got sent here?"

Sasori narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

"I don't remember much about what happened between my death and when I arrived here. I just remember a lot of white light," Sasori told her, though it sounded like a terrible explanation even to himself.

"White light, huh?" Nobuko said to herself, sounding amused again.

"Yeah, it probably sounds a little...," Sasori frowned to himself. "but that's all that I can remember."

"Well, if that's what you remember, that's what you remember," Nobuko shrugged. "But right now you're in district thirty-six. Before you ask, there are eighty districts total and the higher the number of the district the higher the crime rate, basically. I mean no one in the Rukon district is "well-off" per say, but the lower the district the safer you are."

"I see..." Sasori said, as he noted to himself that it was rather obvious that the hag had never lived in the shinobi continent. No one, not even civilians, would give so much information to a complete stranger, even in circumstances such as these.

"Is everyone poor here?" Sasori asked. "Even the shinigami?"

Nobuko scoffed at that question, rolling her eyes as she flicked the reins in her hands, urging the slow donkey to pick up some speed. Sasori guessed that she wanted to get to her destination soon, the sun had begun to set and it would probably be dark in just couple of hours.

"The shinigami? Poor?" Nobuko scoffed again in a somewhat bitter fashion. "Those hoity-toity, good-for-nothings? They live with the upper crust, heck most of them come from the upper crust. Not a lot of the shinigami come from the slums. Wouldn't be surprised if they walked on streets lined in gold!"

'Interesting,' Sasori thought. 'I wonder how one becomes a shinigami.'

"Now, you've questioned me enough for one day, young man," Nobuko began to scold him mockingly. "I know your excited, but you can't talk an old woman to death."

The face that Sasori made at the old woman was the blandest one that he could manage, feeling that this this may expressed his opinion on the matter fully. Nobuko laughed and shook her head.

"Well, in the meantime, since you've obviously got no place to stay, you can stay by me," Nobuko offered generously. "I don't have much, but a little old teashop to my name and an apartment above it where you can stay that is if you'd like to."

"... Thank you." Sasori knew when not look a gift horse in the mouth and decided to just go along with what the old woman was offering.

"I've been looking for someone to help me out in the shop too and you came at just in the nick of time, figure you would be interested in a little work, what do yah say?" Nobuko continued.

"..." Sasori considered this offer. He wasn't sure if he wanted to work with an old woman in a teashop for the rest of his afterlife, but it was certainly a start until he could get back onto his feet... literally.

"I don't how much help I'm going to be at the moment," Sasori pointed at his legs, obviously aggravated with the whole situation.

"Bah," Nobuko waved her hand in the air, dismissing the statement. "It looks like you'll be well again soon enough. In the meantime I'll give you a place to stay."

Sasori considered this and rubbed his quietly rumbling stomach thoughtfully.

"What about food?" Sasori asked.

Nobuko did a double take and stared at him long enough to make the puppet master feel uncomfortable.

"You're hungry?" Nobuko whispered.

"Yes?" Sasori replied with one brow raised as he kept his hand over his stomach.

"..." The stunned old woman looked like she didn't quite know how to reply. However, after a moment or two, she nodded in agreement.

"Alright, food as well," she told him. "We'll be there in a bit, you can see some the houses from over there."

Nobuko gestured towards a gap between the trees and Sasori saw some wooden houses as well as the smoke from chimneys rising over the treetops to blend in with the darkening clouds. The scorpion could feel a tension rising in his body as he now considered the uncertainty of his existence. Before, there had always been a purpose to his life, whether he was serving his village or the Akatsuki. But now he was no longer tied to such an existence and it was unclear whether or not he'd be able to regain any semblance of it. For all he knew, he'd be spending the rest of his afterlife with the hag selling tea to obnoxious customers and listening to gossip.

'What's become of me?' Sasori thought, his emotions running uncharacteristically on the side of brooding as he felt the sudden need to repeatedly slam his head into the closes tree. As the fatigue of the day caught up with him, he decided to leave his melancholy and somewhat violent thoughts alone for some other time. He would first have to establish his existence here before he began to change it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Sasori gasped as he abruptly sat up in his small pallet upon the floor. He groaned and slumped forwards, attempting to rub the sluggishness from his mind by running his fingers through his hair. He looked up blinked his eyes and tried to remember what had happened the day before. He remembered that he had, well, died, and to his chagrin he had somehow regained the body he had long before abandoned to immortalize himself. He was pitifully weak in this condition, something that Sasori planned on fixing as soon as he could, and he had been picked up by an old woman who had told him he was in a place called the "soul society" where he would basically live out life, again, except poor and useless. Oh, and shinigami existed here as well as demonic monsters that could eat your soul. Well isn't this situation just sunshine and daisies?

"What the hell is wrong with this world?" Sasori growled as he slowly prepared himself to get up. The heavy lethargy in his limbs was maddening and Sasori would've started building himself a new puppet body immediately if he had had the dexterity, or even the power, to do so.

Eventually, the master puppeteer slowly and painstakingly managed to pick himself off of the floor and onto his feet. He huffed with irritation and exhaustion as he lent his back against the sturdy wooden wall. Sasori looked up and surveyed the room properly his honey colored eyes blank.

The small room was traditional in style, all dusty wooden floors and old rice paper doors. The small, slotted window to his left was open and the harsh morning light filtered through it to light up the room. The silence was broken by a loud gurgling that made the redhead twitch slightly and as he exhaled the air in his lungs harshly his stomach continued its protesting.

"Freaking perfect," he mumbled as he shakily walked forwards and forced the sliding doors open.

Sasori continued to use the walls as a support system as he made his way down the dark wooden hallway to the open door at the end. Sasori could hear pots banging and a teapot whistling, and figured that he was heading towards the kitchen.

When his feet stepped off of the warm wooden boards and stepped onto the cold, gray tile, Sasori shivered, but continued towards the table that stood in the middle of the room. This room, Sasori noted, was much better lit than both the room he had awoken in and the dark hallway. There were decent sized windows to his left and to his right, but the one on his right let in the greater amount of light due to the impressive sunrise that could be seen over the rooftops of the small village.

Nobuko was making herself busy in the left corner with a low hearth fire and a pan. The teapot that he had heard whistling now sat at a wooden table next to two mugs, a plate, and a battered old pair of chopsticks.

"Good morning," Sasori rasped as he sat down heavily into the stool that had been closest to the door.

Nobuko jumped a little when she finally heard her guest over the sizzling in the pan and she turned to look over her shoulder at the young man that was pouring himself some tea.

"So you finally decided to wake up, did you?" she smirked as her hands busied themselves with swirling the contents in the pan around with a pair of cooking chopsticks.

Sasori frowned at this, wondering just how long he had slept, but he grunted his affirmative and took a sip of the tea. It worked wonders on his sore throat. At this thought Sasori frowned, as one would suspect being fully human clearly wasn't sitting very well with him.

"Well, I hope you're feeling better today," Nobuko said as she lifted the pan from the fire and brought it over to the table. Nobuko scraped the food in the pan into the plate and Sasori barely saw what was there before picking up the chopsticks and wolfing down his food.

Nobuko wrinkled her nose at his awful table manners and sat down onto another stool not far from him.

"Sorry that I didn't have any food around last night, but I don't eat much myself. I went to the market this morning and picked a few things up," Nobuko told him as she poured herself some tea. Sasori grunted again as he finished up the last scraps of his meal.

"Nice to know that people still think I'm a good cook," she said wryly as she blew over the top of her cup before taking a sip.

Sasori finally set his chopsticks down and sighed. He wiped at the corners of his mouth with his sleeve and reveled in how much the fullness of your stomach could improve your mood. He almost felt like smiling...key word her is almost. Sasori looked up at the old woman sitting adjacent from him whom took it upon herself to stare at him with a single eyebrow raised. If Sasori was a lesser man, he might've blushed, but instead he simply remembered what few manners he managed to retain from his life before and put them to good use.

"Thank you for the meal," Sasori said politely, nodding his head respectfully in her direction.

"Uh-huh," she said, still staring at him.

Sasori twitched in his seat a bit, but quietly picked up his own cooling cup and took a sip.

"Do you think you're going to be hungry like that very often?" Nobuko asked, her eyebrow looking like it had been permanently stuck to the top of her forehead. The look that Sasori gave her was questioning.

"Probably not very often, I just hadn't eaten in a while," Sasori said slowly, as if he was talking to someone whose brains had been addled. Nobuko scowled at the tone.

"Don't talk to me like that, boy," she chided. "You obviously don't understand the significance of being hungry here."

Now this caught Sasori's attention.

"What? Don't people here normally eat?" Sasori asked.

Nobuko shrugged her shoulders.

"Sometimes, although it's more for the feeling of nostalgia or perhaps for some sort of celebration. Often, food is a luxury that few can afford. I'm pretty well off because my teashop is a favorite of the locals and the occasional traveler," Nobuko explained. "But if you want to eat regularly, you had better find your own money quickly."

Sasori looked a little dumbfounded at this. Yet another quirk of this world that didn't make any sense in the man's mind.

"What significance does being hungry hold here?" Sasori said, irritation leaking into his words because of the many things here he was ignorant of. Nobuko sighed as she set he cup down onto the table with a light clank before she stared blankly at it.

"Well," Nobuko began tentatively. "It means that you've got a higher than average level of reiryoku."

Sasori raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term and waited for her to go on.

"It's uncommon around here, although it's even more uncommon amongst the living, or so I hear," Nobuko explained while looking out the window, her eyes never meeting his. "I'm not quite sure about the specifics in all this, but it just means that you've got a greater amount of spiritual energy."

Sasori looked unsurprised to hear this. He had, after all, had high amounts of chakra during his lifetime, part of which was made up by your spiritual energy. Therefore, it wasn't that much of surprise that this would somehow translate over into his afterlife.

"Okay," Sasori said as he took another sip of his tea. It seemed that his only problem would be making some extra money in order for him to eat regularly. He could think of something, eventually. Nobuko was still disconcerted, however. Even more so when she saw the lack of reaction her explanation had gotten her.

"You do know what this means, don't you?" Nobuko asked, although she guessed that he didn't if the blank look she was receiving was any indication.

"Usually, only the shinigami and random vagabonds have any kind of spiritual energy," Nobuko told him, her tone of voice indicating that he should not be taking this as calmly as he was. "This will make you a big target should any one find out about it."

Sasori studied the worried look on her face curiously, still not feeling very concerned. He closed his eyes and sighed again, slightly irritated that she wanted to drag this topic around for longer than Sasori felt was necessary.

"If it bothers you that much, I'll prepare to leave as soon as I am able," Sasori offered, not bothering to mention that this what he had been planning anyway. Nobuko frowned, and her facial features twisting as if she had just tasted something especially sour.

"Now that wouldn't be right," she said, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "You're new here and you look as if your still as weak as a newborn calf."

Sasori felt himself twitch at the comparison, but he decided to say nothing in lingering gratitude for the food. Although if she kept it up, he made no promises he would keep his sharp tongue sheathed. He might still be unused to his new body, but he would bet that he could still skewer a fly with one of his chopsticks from across the room. He had always been told that he was a talented individual, after all, and God forbid if anyone ever treated him like he was completely helpless.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you," Sasori gritted from between his teeth. Nobuko gave a little harrumph as she shifted again in her seat.

"You're not any trouble...yet," Nobuko admitted. "And I was telling the truth about needing help. You just worry about getting back on your feet so that you can help me about. We'll talk about things then."

Sasori didn't like that the fact that she sounded so sure of herself, but he supposed that it was a reasonable plan. Once he had gotten to that point he would start working on ways to support himself so that he could leave as soon as possible. He honestly didn't mind becoming a "wandering vagabond" seeing as that had practically been his job description when he was in the Akatsuki. So, Sasori nodded his head to placate her that resulted in Nobuko giving him a small smile.

"So, after you finish up your tea you can try walking around a bit. Try building up some muscle strength," Nobuko suggested sternly.

Sasori fought the urge to roll his eyes and scoff. He doubted that the old woman knew more about body and muscle training than he did, but he nodded nonetheless in agreement to her advice. He would first have to do a few stretches and exercises before he started to waltz around her little home. He was going to have to work the awkward stiffness out of his limbs first and then move onto a general workout routine. After he had gotten his body back into something resembling decent physical shape, he would experiment with what his "spiritual energy" could do.

First things first, however, Sasori decided as he pulled himself up slowly from the table. Nobuko watched him closely for any signs of weakness as she collected the dirty tableware. He had a long few weeks ahead of himself Sasori decided. Hopefully, he would be out of here as soon as possible. He really did despise old women.

* * *

Sasori huffed as he carefully worked through his stretching exercises on the floor of what had become his bedroom. Nobuko had given it to him to do with what he liked claiming that she never had any visitors anyway and that the space was simply going to waste. Fortunately, the old women mostly left him alone, much to Sasori's relief. She was impressed with the amount of progress that he had made in the last week alone, seeing as he barely stumbled anymore and he could stay on his feet for more than an hour or two before becoming fatigued.

Nobuko had also deemed him healthy enough to begin helping out in the store below them and, unsurprisingly, Sasori found it as unbearable as he thought he would. The little shop both sold and served tea to a wide variety of customers who were all as irritating as the next. Sasori grudgingly agreed that the old woman had needed a bit of help which Sasori provided by occasionally serving to the customers and making the tea in the backroom. Nobuko did everything else. She handled all of the money, of course, and she also sold and served the tea whilst chatting and gossiping with her regulars.

However, while Nobuko thought that he was fit as young person could be, Sasori had different standards. In his eyes, he was still ridiculously weak, although not quite as helpless as he had been when he had first arrived here. He still had a long way to go, but he had already started to experiment a bit with his "reiryoku" when he was alone and feeling up to it. Fortunately, Sasori found that basic chakra manipulation wasn't beyond him. It almost made Sasori feel excited, but he stifled it when he recognized the feeling. Hopefully, in the very near future he would be able to retrain himself to resemble a fraction of the shinobi he used to be.

Sasori sighed wistfully when he thought of his puppet body and all the other rare puppets that he had acquired over the long years. He doubted that he would ever reach his peak again, but as long as he was able to practice the art of puppetry once more, Sasori would be content... for a while. In the meantime, he would have to endure smelly teashops and tedious exercises for just a bit longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Sasori smirked triumphantly when he managed to make the teacup on the table twitch via chakra string. It had taken a while for him to fix his chakra pathways and grow accustomed to his new body, but it seemed that all of his hard work was paying off. Sasori twitched his finger once more and the teacup tipped a little, almost to its side, and started spinning whilst moving in circles. Sasori felt his face split into a full-blown smile at his growing dexterity. Sasori stopped twirling his fingers and the cup laid down flat on the surface of the table.

Sasori propped his elbows up on the table, crossed his fingers, and laid his chin on top of them thoughtfully. The next step, obviously, was to try something more complex. However, in order to do this he would need a puppet, which would require pieces of wood and the right tools. Chiseling tools would be a must, sand paper, screws, bolts, screwdrivers, hammers... the list went on and on. Plus, it was a little disheartening to believe that this was what was needed in order for Sasori to make something _simple._ If he wanted to make something that was meant for battle it would take twice as much effort and even more tools.

Sasori growled in frustration at the growing list of things he would need to do. Getting the stuff that he needed might be easy enough to acquire at a carpenter's workshop, but getting the money for these things would be a problem. At the moment, the meager wages that he got from helping out in the teashop went towards food. Thankfully, he didn't have to eat as much as three meals a day, but Sasori had figured out pretty quickly that the more chakra, or 'reiryoku', he used, the hungrier he became. The whole situation was more frustrating than it was worth and it was definitely going to take longer than Sasori had originally anticipated. And, needless to say, patience was not one of Sasori's strong suits.

First, he would scout the small village, try to locate a carpenter, make an inquiry about the tools he would need, and ask for a price estimation. It would be easier if he had a goal to work towards. As for money, he had started offering his services to the people around town. He was fairly handy; a byproduct of his profession, and any extra money that he could scrounge would be helpful, even if he had to suck up to the obnoxious customers that he had to serve daily.

Luckily, Nobuko hadn't caught on to the fact that he was trying to actually leave yet, or at least she hadn't mentioned noticing anything out of the ordinary. However, Sasori knew that it would only last for so long and that soon she would be asking him what he was up to and, unfortunately enough, she would probably ask _why_. Sasori was forced to admit that the foolish old women seemed to have grown attached to him. When she had been out of hearing range, several of the costumers had confided in him that they had never seen her so cheerful. One of the more talkative old crones that visited the shop had told him that she thought it was because Nobuko now had someone to take care of. Sasori cringed at the thought of being 'taken care of', but at the time he had simply smiled politely and asked her if she had wanted some more tea.

This was another reason why he had to get out of the teashop as soon as possible. He simply wasn't meant for customer service and the sooner he left, the sooner he could return to his normal, more taciturn self. All of the polite smiling he was required to do was going to break his jaw off one day, but if he even tried frowning while in sight of a customer Nobuko usually whacked him in the head with whatever she was holding and gave him a stern look. A look made all the creepier by the smile that was plastered on her face.

Sasori picked up his teacup and put it inside one of the cupboards.

"Sasori!" Nobuko called from the shop downstairs as soon as he had closed the cupboard door. Sasori rolled his eyes and moved towards the staircase.

"Yes?" Sasori asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Nobuko pursed her lips as she at him and gestured for him to come stand next to her and some random regular. Sasori raised an eyebrow and walked towards the two women. He had thought that they had closed up already and that Nobuko was only downstairs ushering people out the door. Unfortunately, it looked as if she had been scheming something and Sasori had a bad feeling about this.

"There you are Sasori," Nobuko said as she grabbed his elbow and pulled him to her side. "This is Yamaoka-san."

Sasori kept his eyebrow raised as he glanced at Nobuko and then at the other old hag that was giving him what she must have considered a coy glance. He successfully suppressed the urge to shiver in disgust and plastered his polite smile onto his face.

"Hello, Yamaoka-san," Sasori said politely with a shallow bow. "What can I do for you?"

To Sasori's horror the pallid, wrinkled old hag _blushed_ and then, to make the experience even more horrifying, she _giggled_. Nobuko rolled her eyes when Mrs. Yamaoka ducked her head in bashfulness and elbowed Sasori in the side when the look of horror in his half-lidded eyes became too obvious. Sasori gave her a small glare, but they were both forced to put their neutral polite faces on when Mrs. Yamaoka cleared her throat and let out a nervous chuckle.

"I've heard that you were looking for some extra work, Sasori-kun," Yamaoka told him eagerly.

Sasori raised his eyebrows slightly, but at the promise of a outside job for extra money, he smiled extra wide and nodded indulgently.

"It seems that I've been neglecting one of the rooms in my house, the study to be exact, and the roof needs some repairing. My husband just isn't up to doing jobs like that anymore and when I heard that you were looking for some extra work I thought that maybe you'd like the job," Yamaoka told him.

Sasori gave another polite smile and nodded.

"I'd love to, Yamaoka-san," Sasori said in his most soothing voice. "Do you have the necessary tools?"

Yamaoka frowned and shook her head, but said, "I'll give you the money for the things you need, in addition to payment for the work. Ashida-san down the road sells tools and construction supplies, he'll be happy to help you out."

Sasori gave her a semi-genuine smile and bowed once more. It seemed that today was his turning out to be a good day in more ways than one. Maybe he really would be out of here quicker than he had thought... and hopefully he'd be leaving without any emotional scarring from any old hags. It seemed that only time would tell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

Sasori was breathing heavily as he continued to bang a hammer down on the small wooden fence that he was repairing. Ever since the job he had completed with the Yamaoka's, it seemed that the fates had smiled upon him. The satisfactory job he had done on their ceiling had led him to more job opportunities and he had been able to keep the tools that he had used during his first job.

After the Yamaoka's had recommended him to their more well-to-do friends, Sasori had been receiving a steady income from the odd jobs that he had managed to acquire. Plus, he had managed to collect many of the odd ends and bits that he would need to help him complete his first puppet project in the soul society.

Nobuko was pleased that he was getting his own money. Although whenever he had to leave the shop to go to work, she always had the same look on her face, one that Sasori ignored and didn't really want to put a name to. All that mattered was that he had all the things he needed in order to make something small so that he could continue his chakra exercises. He had continued his practice on small inanimate objects, but he had long ago mastered such a thing and he was essentially just biding his time.

Sasori put the last finishing touches on the fence and nodded to himself; the fence matched up to his views of perfection. Sasori dropped his hammer onto the small pile of tools he had been using and tugged at the tie that had been holding back the sleeves of his light robe. Another perk of having money was that he was finally able to increase his wardrobe to something a little more suitable. Before he had been stuck with his simple white yukata and the work robe that Nobuko had gotten him.

Now, he had several different robes (he had tried to get them to make him some pants, but the idea hadn't translated very well. Apparently very few people here actually wore pants). They were all thicker than the flimsy white cotton yukata that he had woken up in and also in darker colors (mainly maroon, dark green, and black). He had even bought some that were made for harsher weather, even though the area that they were in is known for its mild weather. Sasori knew that he would be ready to leave sooner rather than later and he wanted to be prepared when he was ready to go.

When Sasori had collected his pay and said his goodbyes to his most recent employer, he made his way back to the small teashop with a rare smile on his face. The man that he had just helped out had given him the extra wood from repairing the fences which gave him enough materials to start on his work.

Sasori, when he finally reached the shop, slipped in through the front and walked through the empty room to the set of stairs in the back. It seemed that Nobuko had already finished up for the day and Sasori wouldn't have to help her out. Unfortunately, that also opened up the possibility that Nobuko would possibly bother him upstairs, if she wasn't out already doing errands or something.

"Nobuko?" Sasori called when he reached the top of the stairs.

Sasori had thought he heard something in one of the back rooms down the hall, but when he went to check the room, there was nothing there. Sasori narrowed his eyes and checked the kitchen. Nothing. Sasori smirked and took all of his things to his room. A corner of his room was devoted to his project. Luckily, Nobuko hadn't really said anything about it and when she had asked he had told her that he a working on a hobby of his. She had looked at him a little oddly, but in the end she had simply shrugged and gone about her business.

Sasori set up his workplace, picked up his wood carving tools, and one of the smaller planks of wood. He smirked as he began his work.

* * *

Nobuko sighed as she came back from the market. She had taken to going shopping once a week for Sasori's meals. Although Sasori only ate once every day or two, Nobuko found that she enjoyed having a reason to cook regularly again. In fact, she found that she was simply happier than she had been in a very long time. Having the teashop had given her something to do over these long years, but having Sasori there had brought a new purpose and a kind of light to her life that hadn't existed here in the Soul Society when she had gotten here.

It reminded her of the family that she had been apart of when she had still been alive rather than the lonely existence that she had been living. Although most people, when they arrived in the rukon district, gravitated to other people and formed family units, Nobuko had never felt particularly close to any of the people that she had met. However, ever since she had first met the waif-like redhead on the side of the road, she had been drawn to the strange young man.

His strange behavior seemed to be increasing daily, but Nobuko just chalked it up to Sasori's method of adjusting to his new life here. She hoped that all the jobs that he was doing around the neighborhood would help him form bonds with the people here. Although he wasn't exactly enthusiastic about serving customers, he was able to multitask well enough with both his job at the teashop and his other jobs. The money that he made was more than enough to support his eating habit and Nobuko was happy to see that he had taken up some sort of wood working hobby. At first she had been worried that he might not be able to adjust or that he might be shunned because of his high level of reiryoku, but everything seemed to have worked itself out.

Nobuko placed all of her purchases in their proper places in the kitchen and decided to check up on Sasori. He should have been back from his latest job a few hours ago even though she hadn't been home to greet him. Nobuko shuffled down the small hallway to Sasori's room and knocked on the door.

"Sasori? Are you here?" Nobuko asked as she poked her head into the room.

Nobuko felt one of her eyebrows raise when she saw Sasori sitting on the floor in the far corner of his room completely focused on the wood and the tools in front of him.

"Eh? Sasori?" Nobuko asked quizzically as she moved closer. "What are you doing?"

Sasori finally stopped sanding the small wooden figure in front of him to look up at her.

"Hello," Sasori said as he brought his attention back to his work.

Nobuko squinted at the small thing and wondered what it was for. The figure suggested the form of a human, and looked to be in proportion, but she couldn't figure out why Sasori would make something like this. Perhaps he was simply trying to test his skills. When Nobuko looked a little closer she noticed that the little wooden man had working joints and a movable torso. In fact, it looked as if Sasori had tried to make it so that it would be able to copy human movement as much as possible.

'It almost looks like it should be some sort of puppet,' Nobuko thought. 'But there's no strings.'

"What's this for?" Nobuko asked aloud.

Sasori stopped sanding the wood to a fine finish to look up at the old women and shrug.

"I don't know," Sasori answered vaguely. Nobuko narrowed his eyes at him, sensing the lie behind the vague response. Although she wasn't very sure why Sasori would lie about something like this.

"I just felt like making something," Sasori said, placing the figurine down softly onto some folded cloth.

"Well, alright," Nobuko said, still looking at him suspiciously whilst rubbing her nose a little bit to hide it. She stepped back so that Sasori would be able to get up and dust off the wood shavings from his clothes.

"Is it time for dinner?" Sasori asked.

Nobuko shook her head, putting her hands on her hips and huffed at him.

"I only just got back from the market," Nobuko told him.

Sasori hummed and nodded, putting his forearms into his sleeves.

"Do you want me to help or something?" Sasori offered warily, obviously not wanting Nobuko to want him to do something. Nobuko seemed to find this amusing and she chortled a little bit and slapped Sasori on the back, making his eyes narrow slightly.

"No need for that, boy," Nobuko said, waving her hand dismissively as she turned to walk out of the room. "I remember the last time you tried to 'cook'. It didn't exactly end well, did it?"

Sasori grumbled slightly at the memory. It was one of the days that Nobuko had to make a trip to the adjacent towns for supplies, what she had been doing when he had first met her, and he had started to feel some hunger pains. Although he had never really had to prepare his own food while alive, having lived with his grandmother the entire time that he had actually needed to eat food, he had figured that it couldn't be too hard. Unfortunately, he had apparently underestimated what he was capable of in the kitchen. One of the neighbors had thankfully seen the smoke coming from one of the windows and had helped Sasori extinguish the flames quickly.

It had taken weeks for Sasori to live it down when Nobuko had gotten back the following day. In fact, in some ways he still hadn't.

"Whatever," Sasori mumbled. "Well then, if you don't need me..."

"I'll call you when I'm done," Nobuko said, Sasori nodding his understanding as he sat down in front of his tools again.

Nobuko shook her head as he simply dived back into his work once more. This time it looked like he was going to build something new. It seemed that she would have to come and get him herself when she had finished making food. Sasori was unusually absorbed in this work, unlike anything else that he did for her or around town.

'Well, everyone needs a hobby,' Nobuko reassured herself. Although any words she thought of to comfort herself couldn't get rid of the feeling of uneasiness that had begun to settle into her stomach.

* * *

Sasori fiddled with some of the pieces of wood until he was sure that Nobuko was gone and had started to busy herself in the kitchen. He peeked over his shoulder at the entrance of his door just in case and when he was sure that he was not going to be interrupted; he put down the tools in his hand and picked up the small puppet he had just completed.

Sasori lifted his hand and attached chakra strings to the puppet. The puppet looked as if it had been suddenly struck with a bolt of life, it's small limbs clicking and shaking like most puppets did. Sasori began twitches his fingers, testing the puppet for faulty construction and himself for weakness in his technique.

Sasori smiled when his puppet managed a few laps around the room and a flip or two in the air. The puppet itself could benefit from a tweaking or two, but Sasori was, overall, rather proud of his new puppet. He let the puppet drop onto the cloth once more and began to think of his situation.

He was fully prepared now to go off on his own whenever he liked. His physical health was fully restored along with his abilities. He had all of the tools and materials that he needed as well. Perhaps, he could benefit from making a spare puppet, but after that he would simply save up money from his job and wait for the opportune moment. Leaving as soon as possible would be for the best, if Sasori had to stay in this slow-paced town any longer, he truly would lose his mind. Maybe, if Nobuko had been telling the truth, he could look into becoming a shinigami. It would give him something to do, at the very least.

¸¸.•¨¯`•. ¸¸.•¨¯`•. ¸¸.•¨¯`•.¸¸

It had been a week or so since Nobuko had come back from the market that one afternoon to find Sasori cooped up in his room and although the strange feeling in her stomach hadn't quite left, it had made itself quiet enough that Nobuko could forget about it for a while. Nobuko was currently setting Sasori's food down on the table when she heard footsteps coming down the hallway and looked up, startled. Instead of bothering to call him into the kitchen, she had been planning to go and get him herself. However, it seemed that he had beat her to it.

"Oh, Sasori," Nobuko said, her was blank in shock for a few moments before she gestured towards the food that was laying on the table. "You're just in time."

"Ah," Sasori grunted as he looked at the food and sat down.

Nobuko shook her head and got her teacup. Although she herself didn't need to eat very often, if at all, she liked to accompany Sasori while he took his meal. It was a nice way of winding down after a long day and then the two would go their own separate ways.

It seemed that this night would be no different. Sasori inhaled his food like he usually did, calmly sipped at his tea, and got up to wash his dishes. During this, Nobuko would sip her own tea and maybe chat about the day, Sasori grunting all the while in response.

And although this night seemed no different than all the others, there _was_ something different about it that made Nobuko wary, made her hesitant to speak. It was that feeling that had buried itself into the pit of her stomach. A feeling that only seemed to be blossoming as the night grew long.

Nobuko was still mechanically sipping at her tea as Sasori finished cleaning up, and this is where the routine deviated from the average evening. Usually Sasori would simply leave, sometimes waving a hand, sometimes mumbling his goodnight, but this time he surprised her by standing silently in front of her for a few moments, an odd look in his half-lidded eyes. Nobuko's eyes had widened in response, she was unsure how to read this awkward energy that was floating in the air, but it kept her from commenting on the sudden strange behavior. Suddenly, Sasori gave her a shallow bow, holding it for a few seconds before standing up straight once again.

"Thank-you for the meal," Sasori thanked her in his light monotone voice.

"Your welcome," Nobuko replied automatically, not really understanding what was going on exactly.

Sasori looked at her critically for another moment before he nodded and turned to leave the room. Nobuko stared at his retreating form and when he finally disappeared from sight she stared down at the cup in her old, wrinkled hands. She wondered why the feeling in her stomach had stopped bothering her. In fact, she felt empty, in a way. For some reason it had felt like they had been saying good-bye to each other. Her heart seemed to be telling her that Sasori had been thanking her for a place to stay and that they had been saying goodbye.

Nobuko berated herself for being a silly, old women and she told herself that she was simply being emotional, but the tears that slid down her cheeks and onto the rough wooden table told a different story. In the morning, she would see that she had been right. She was a silly woman, but now, she was a silly woman that was all alone.

* * *

Sasori finished packing up all of the things that he had acquired over the past month or so. All his clothes had been packed first, then all of the things related to making puppets had been packed in his sturdy knapsack next after that, then his sleeping blanket, the two simple puppets that he had made in the past week, and lastly the preserved food that he had gotten a few days ago along with the money that he had been saving up for quite some time.

Sasori grabbed his pair of sandals, his spare pair having been packed with his clothes, and he moved swiftly out of the door not making a sound. He passed by the old woman's room without a single glance and headed down the stairs, keeping his steps light and nimble. He rushed through the small teashop and out into the street.

When Sasori stood outside in the fresh air, he took a deep lungful of air and released it. Although it was late, the night sky lit his way with the stars and the waxing moon. Sasori stared at the stars for a moment, looking a little puzzled at the unfamiliar star constellations, and looked back at the little teashop he had called home for a brief amount of time.

Sasori would normally loathe admitting any sort of emotional attachment to _anything_, but he had to admit that he was _a little_ grateful towards the old hag. She honestly didn't have to put up with housing him, feeding him, and giving him a job. Plus the other little things that she had done for him that he probably hadn't really taken note of. Sure, he really hated old women, but she wasn't too bad. At least she didn't remind of Chiyo too much... at least in not an overwhelmingly obvious way. That would have just pissed him off... probably.

Either way, it didn't matter much now. It was long past the time that he should've left this small town. In the end, a former S-rank criminal didn't really belong working in a teashop, helping out old grannies. He could make his own way in this strange new world and perhaps he would be able to discover some new purpose to make it worthwhile.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Sasori rubbed at his sweaty forehead as he trudged down one of the many dirt roads that seemed to connect all of the districts together. It had been a few days since he had left the old women behind in district thirty-six and his travels so far had been easy going. Even though he had been sleeping in a bed for the past few months, he easily grew re-accustomed to the simple life-style that traveling required of you. He had never been particularly picky about the way that he lived and as a ninja he definitely hadn't been soft or spoiled or anything like that. In fact, it put him more at ease than living safely and comfortably ever could.

However, by Sasori's calculations, he would need to arrive at some sort of town pretty soon. He was starting to run low on the food he had brought with him and even though he didn't mind searching for his food in the wild, it would be much easier to find a town and pick a few things up so that he could keep moving. Although Sasori didn't feel like rushing, it wasn't like he was going to be hunted down just because he left, he didn't feel like slowing down either. He had been inactive and complacent for so long that he just felt like going as far as he could in the least amount of time possible. For once, he didn't even care where he was going either.

If anything, Sasori was kind of looking forward to the districts with higher numbers. it had been a while since he had been able to have a proper fight with someone,_ anyone_, and it would be interesting to see what the people here were truly capable of. Did the longer lifespan effect their skills? Perhaps having more time to hone your abilities made them exponentially more powerful than the people he had fought while in the living world. Sasori was especially excited about observing a shinigami. From the descriptions that he had been able to pick up from both Nobuko and the locals, it sounded like the shinigami was this world's equivalent to the ninja in his own world.

The two groups were both militaristic, the powers that gave you the ability to become one was hereditary more often than not, they kept the peace to some degree, and many people were suspicious of them. Of course, there were many differences as well, but Sasori was only making a rough comparison. He didn't think that he would actually _become_a shinigami, although learning the shinigami arts that were talked about so reverently and with hushed voices would certainly prove to be interesting. Sasori had already proved that there was some sort of connection between the chakra system he was used to using and the one that the shinigami used here. Learning what else he was capable of here would have been a great experiment.

Sasori shrugged, why bother thinking about the improbable. It would be wiser to use his time to think of a way to earn some money. Although he did have a decent amount saved up, that wouldn't last forever and sooner or later he would be out. Sasori sighed irritably. Perhaps when he reached a town he would be able to think of some good ideas. Doing random jobs for people only really worked when the townsfolk knew you or you were a harmless acquaintance. The people here seemed to be even less trusting of strangers than they were in Sasori's own world, and since a lot of the people he had met while alive had been highly paranoid shinobi, it certainly was an accomplishment.

"Until tomorrow then," Sasori said aloud. Night was already darkening the sky and soon he would have to stop and rest. Tomorrow was the day for action, for now, it was time for rest.

Sasori blinked widely when he finally got to the town he was sure was there. He was unsure of what district he was in, if he had even gotten to another district, but the small town here was definitely different than the one that he had left. Nobuko's town was respectable and, although Sasori wouldn't call them _rich_, they were all fairly well off. On the other hand, _this_ town wasn't as nice. The people were dirtier and looked irritable, homeless children were constantly running through the crowds of people, occasionally stealing or pick pocketing. Sasori had already grabbed a thin wrist or two and threatened to snap it.

It seemed unlikely that Sasori would be able to get any jobs here, although he would ask around anyway just in case. First, he would see what they had to sell here. He wanted to pick up some more preserved foods and maybe eat lunch somewhere, if there was anyplace decent to go.

As it turned out, the market place really wasn't selling anything that Sasori would've considered _edible_ and when he asked people if there were any jobs that he could do around town, the replies he got were either paranoid stares or harsh laughter. After finally giving up and simply asking the next decent looking person what district he was in, he learned that he was currently in district forty-two.

'Well, that makes more sense,' Sasori thought as he leaned against one of the shoddy wooden houses on the side of the road. 'I wonder what order the districts are in.'

He decided to keep moving after a while. He couldn't go back to where he came from, but he planned to ask the next person that came along what other districts were close by and how he could get to the lowest numbered district. Nothing would get done if he kept on walking into districts that were the same or worse than the one he was in currently. Especially since it seemed that seeking out the higher districts wouldn't be worth the time.

When Sasori made it out onto the main road that led out of town and had walked a fair amount, he paused for a moment, head cocked to the side. He thought he felt a faint trembling in the ground... What was that? ...It almost sounded like the sound of hooves coming his way.

Sasori realized quickly that it _was_the sound of hooves stampeding towards him and that he was standing in the middle of the only road in the area. He turned to look behind him and his heavy lidded eyes widened for a moment when he realized that five men riding large boars where headed towards him.

Sasori moved to the side of the road swiftly and was narrowly missed by the gang of boar-riders that had almost ran him over. Sasori coughed a little at the dust cloud that had been kicked up as a result of the whole incident.

"Whoa there Bonnie-chan!" a voice called out and Sasori realized that he wouldn't be rid of the five idiots so quickly.

The five of them all turned so that their leader, a fat, ugly looking man with goggles on his face, was in the front and facing the not so amused figure of the ex-Akatsuki member.

"What... the hell is this?" Sasori muttered to himself when the leader dismounted his boar and strode over to him.

The stranger's stance was aggressive and he was easily twice as big as Sasori was, although Sasori could tell that if push came to shove Sasori could beat him in a fight.

"Now fellas, what do we have here?" the man said jeeringly to his comrades as he pulled off his goggles. The rest of his 'gang' smirked and chuckled, leering down at Sasori from atop of there 'steeds'.

Sasori rolled his eyes and met the man's beady gaze without flinching as he stood directly in front of him, invading Sasori's very large personal bubble.

"So," the man glared narrowly at him, Sasori kept an impassive face and stared at the man's crooked nose. "You're the guy that everyone in town is talking about..."

Sasori blinked his eyes at this. What was this fat idiot talking about?

"Pardon?" Sasori said aloud. The man scoffed and continued to stare him down in a way that Sasori assumed was supposed to be intimidating.

"You. You're the guy that everyone back in town has been talking about," the man explained. "Asking questions, freaking everyone out."

Sasori hadn't really known that he had been making that kind of impression on the townspeople, but he wasn't really known for his human interaction skills, so it was entirely possible.

"Asking questions is a crime?" Sasori replied, his tone flat. Why was he always being forced to suffer fools?

"No," the man grunted, his eyes narrowing further. "But they didn't like the look of you and I don't either for that matter. No one really likes wanderers. What's your name kid?"

Sasori found that it was his turn to narrow his eyes. He _despised_ being called a child. He had long since earned the right to be called an adult while this waste of space was still struggling out of the adolescent mindset it seemed.

"My name is none of your business," Sasori told him coolly, moving back a step so that the man wasn't in his face. "And I'm leaving."

"Hey!" the man shouted, grabbing onto Sasori's shoulder. "Respect your elders, kid. Answer my question! What's your name?"

Sasori grabbed onto the stranger's wrist and squeezed. The man winced, but he didn't back down or let go. Sasori was mildly impressed, although he had never actually known for his physical strength so perhaps it really wasn't worth the impression.

"It's rude, don't you think, to ask for someone's name before you tell them your own," Sasori countered. "And besides, I'm just passing by, really. Unless you chase down and interrogate all of the travelers that walk through town."

The man grunted at that, sneering at the young boy that was talking down to him. However, he couldn't quite argue with the first point.

"My name is Ganju Shiba," he proclaimed proudly. "And normally it isn't a problem, unless there's suspicious activity. The head of the town asked a favor of me, I'm simply helping them out. You're probably completely harmless, but refusing to answer isn't exactly helping your case, now is it, punk?"

"Well, Ganju," Sasori began reasonably. "Whether or not I seem suspicious or harmless to you is none of my concern."

"Why you-"

Ganju would have continued, but Sasori had acted before he could complete whatever annoying thing he would have continued to say. Sasori used the grip that he had on the other man's arm to move his body so that his back faced the other man's front. Sasori caught a glimpse of the man's widened eyes and smirked. Sasori moved fast and used the man's weight to throw him over his shoulder.

"Like I said," Sasori said, looking down at the stunned man and then looking over his shoulder at Ganju's equally stunned companions. "I'm really just passing through."

Sasori passed by the stunned men and continued down the road. He ignored the shuffling on the ground behind him and kept walking at a steady pace.

"He-Hey!" he heard Ganju yell. "Hey, come back here!"

Sasori rolled his eyes and prepared himself to run. Although the boars that the men had been riding were fairly fast, Sasori had been exercising daily with his new body and he had gotten his speed back up to respectable levels for a shinobi, meaning that the five boar riders behind him didn't stand a chance. Of course, his stamina wasn't what it used to be, but he could keep it up long enough to out-run the idiots and their hogs.

Sasori directed some energy to the bottoms of his feet and he flew down the path, ignoring the yells and the pig squeals coming from behind him. He really did hate dealing with idiots.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Sasori wandered around the area of the next town over. The situation at the last town that he had visited had been weird and he didn't want a repeat to occur. Luckily, he hadn't caught sight of any hog riders patrolling the town, so that seemed to be a plus. And even though this town wasn't as nice as the one that he had been living in before, it showed more promise than the last one.

After assessing the situation from some of the tall trees that over looked the town, Sasori decided that it might be worth it to find a place to eat and _maybe_look into some jobs. Perhaps he would ask if there was any place he could pick up some tools and supplies. It had already been a week or so since he had finished his preliminary puppet and he wanted to start planning another one. He wouldn't be able to make anything _too_ big since it would take a while to make (and he didn't want to dawdle in one place for too long) and he didn't want to have to carry it around if he was going to continue to do a lot of heavy traveling in the near future.

Perhaps he would simply make something that was similar in size to the puppet he had already made, but add on attachments so that he could practice with those as well. It couldn't hurt to check if there was some sort of apothecary either. Creating a poison or two would certainly put Sasori in a better mood.

So Sasori leaped from his perch and began walking steadily towards the new town. He forced himself to look as non-threatening as possible (not very hard in a scrawny sixteen year old body) and didn't immediately begin asking people anything, since these people looked as if they were almost as twitchy as the last bunch. Sasori figured he would wander around for a bit and hopefully he would stumble upon some place where he could get some food and listen in on the gossip that the locals were spouting. If there was one thing that he had learned while playing shop-boy was that no matter where you were, people loved to gossip and would do so until the end of time.

Sasori finally found a quite little place to eat that Sasori was sure that he would be able to afford easily with the money he had saved up. He sat down at one of the tables and waited to be noticed by one of the servers.

"Why, hello there, young man," one of the patrons sitting next to him greeted him kindly.

Sasori turned his head to look at the old man with the largest beard that he had ever seen. The man was sitting by himself with a cup of tea and a large smile on his face. Sasori stared at the man for a few seconds before deciding to be cordial and nodded his head in return.

"It's a fine day isn't it?" the man continued after being acknowledged. Sasori gave a grunt in response, preparing himself to be bored to death.

"My name's Sanousuke, I'm a regular here, but I've never seen you before," the man, Sanousuke continued as he got up and sat down across from Sasori. Sasori simply raised an eyebrow at the man, but let him sit. At least he was getting somewhere with one of the locals this time.

"Sasori, I'm passing through," Sasori said in short, clipped tones.

The man looked delighted to have gotten some information out of the young man. It seemed that Sanousuke was no different than the many customers he had served while working in the teashop with Nobuko. It didn't matter much though, even if it did irk him that someone would come talk to him so easily, because he had planned on using someone for information anyway.

"Is that so, Sasori," Sanousuke said cheerfully. "Do you have any business in town?"

Sasori looked thoughtful before responding. He didn't want to come off to strong. It would be best to keep the conversation as casual as he could and not raise any suspicions.

"I was just looking for a place to eat, really," Sasori shrugged. "Maybe stop by a place to pick up some stuff, see if there's any odd jobs that need to be done for some quick cash."

The older man looked thoughtful and stroked his long, beard with a fragile, pale hand.

"Well, you've come to the right place for food," Sanousuke said, turning to wave at one of the waitresses.

"Roriko! This young man would like some food!"

In response to the old man, a youngish looking woman peeked from one of the doorways, the one that probably led to the kitchen, and looked around for a moment before focusing in on the old man. A slightly harassed look flitted on her face, but her face smoothed itself out before she made her way over to the pair.

"Sorry, sirs," the woman, Roriko, apologized while giving the two a deep bow. "But we're having some difficulties in the kitchen. It should be cleared up soon."

"No problem, no problem," the old man said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Your order?" the woman looked at Sasori with an eyebrow inquisitively raised.

"Some tea, please," Sasori responded immediately. "And something to eat as well. I'm not picky about what."

The waitress nodded and scurried back into the kitchen. Sanousuke raised his eyebrows in Sasori's direction.

"You like to eat do you?" the man asked conversationally, a little bit of surprise coloring his voice.

Sasori shrugged.

"It's an expensive habit, you know," the old man chided, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. "Especially for someone who looks like they intend to travel a lot."

Again, Sasori shrugged, but replied, "That's why I'm looking for a couple of jobs."

The man's brows furrowed in thought at this, as if he truly intended on helping Sasori with his goal. Sasori guessed that this guy was either really bored or had a lot of time on his hands... probably a little bit of both.

"Well, usually, I don't think there's a great need for that kind of help around here," Sanousuke told him after some quiet contemplation while scratching at his impressive beard. "But, if you're interested in sticking around for another day or so, we'll be having an annual village festival soon enough. A lot of stuff goes on around this time and I'm sure some people might be looking for an extra helping hand."

Sasori seriously considered this and quickly came to the conclusion that sticking around for a couple of days certainly wouldn't hurt if he could get some kind of compensation for it.

"Plus, I'm sure if you could offer some kind of entertainment while the festival is taking place, you'd make a lot of money," the man suggested. "A lot of the teenagers come up with street acts to make a little extra money. Since everyone saves up for days like the ones coming up, everyone usually parts with their money more easily than they usually do."

Sasori raised his eyebrows in response to this suggestion. Sanousuke had obviously put him in the category of 'teenager looking for quick cash' which was true, in a way, although he seriously doubted that he and the local teenagers had the same intentions in mind when they were looking for some extra spending money.

"That sounds like a good idea," Sasori told the man, who looked happy that he been of use to someone.

If Sanousuke or Sasori had wanted to say anything else in the next few moments, it would have been cut off from the arrival of the waitress. Sasori sat patiently as Roriko set his tea and bowl of rice and miso soup down in front of him. Sasori quirked an eyebrow a little bit at what the woman had chosen for him, but he mentally shrugged. It would do for a meal and wouldn't cost him much money, even though he wasn't particularly fond of miso soup.

"Will there be anything else, sirs?" the waitress asked politely, her hands clasped in front of her modestly.

"I don't think so Roriko," the man said tentatively while sending a questioning look towards Sasori. Sasori shook his head and picked up the pair of wooden chopsticks that had been set down in front of his rice bowl.

Roriko bowed and turned to leave, but Sanousuke called her back with a small shout of her name, his voice indicating that he had thought of something last minute.

"Actually, Roriko, there might be something that you could help us with," the old man said thoughtfully. Both Sasori and the waitress turned their attention to the man, waiting for him to continue.

"This young man is looking for some work, just a quick job or two, and I thought that someone might be looking for some help since our annual festival is coming up," Sanousuke began. Roriko nodded her head thoughtfully, giving Sasori an assessing sweeping look. Probably trying to figure out what he might be able to do to help out.

"I think that Mr. Tanaka is looking for someone to help set up his stall this year. His son had been helping him the year before, but he's working with his friends on something else," Roriko told him.

"Where can I find him?" Sasori asked.

"It's just down the street to the right when you step out of here," Roriko said. "The front of his house has his family name written on it, so it shouldn't be hard to find. Just tell him that Roriko sent you to help him out."

Sasori nodded, showing that he understood. Roriko, seeing that there was no reason for her to stick around any longer, turned and headed back towards the kitchen.

"Well now," Sanousuke began, draining the last of his tea and set it onto the table. "I'm glad that you've got that all sorted out. Is there anything else that you need to know?"

Sasori considered asking him if there was some kind of place where he could pick up chemicals, but he figured that might put him under the 'suspicious' category. Since he would be spending some more time here and now had a legitimate excuse to stick around, he would look into it later.

"Not really," Sasori replied picking up the soup spoon to begin eating his miso.

"Ah, I guess I'll take my leave then," Sanousuke said, getting up and leaving some coins on the table as he did. "Maybe I'll see you around in the next few days."

Sasori shrugged and gave a small wave to the old man as he left. He figured he should have thanked the old man or something, but all of his politeness had dried up a couple of days ago.

'After this,' Sasori thought to himself as he picked up the small bowl to finish his soup. 'I guess I'll be going to see a man about a job. Hopefully I won't run into anymore problems.'

Sasori thought of the idiot that he had encountered the day before, Ganju. It had to be the single most bizarre incident that he had experienced since waking up after his death. If he was lucky, he wouldn't run into the bulky man and his man again anytime soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine**

Sasori realized what the waitress had meant when she said that he couldn't miss it. It seemed that Tanaka had painted his family name in bright orange on the side of his house. Under it, in blue, the word 'blacksmith' was written. Sasori raised a brow. He hadn't seen colors that obnoxious since he had met the nine-tail brat, Naruto Uzumaki. What kind of man was he going to associating himself with?

Sasori sighed and walked up to the door. Having a job was better than not having one. It would only be a day or two, but Sasori knew from personal experience that a day or two doing a job with people you hated could be a hellish experience. Sasori reflectively thought back on his time as Orochimaru's literal partner in crime. Yeah, that had not been fun. Especially when the snake man had figured out that Hiruko was not his actual body and that he actually had the body of a young boy. Not fun at all.

He knocked on the door, almost hesitating, but hesitation now was pointless. It wasn't like he really had a choice in all this. He was going to need more money eventually, so it would be wise to seize every opportunity while he still could.

Sasori flinched slightly when he heard a couple of loud bangs coming from inside the small house, but he didn't jump when the door suddenly banged open, revealing a slightly grimy, but relatively average looking man peering at him from the threshold.

"Who are you?" the person that Sasori assumed was Mr. Tanaka asked bluntly.

"I'm Sasori. Roriko sent me. She said that you might be looking for someone to help you out," Sasori told him as politely as he could muster, even giving a shallow bow for effect. It would do him no good to piss off a potential employer, even if this one did seem a little unorthodox.

"Is that so?" the man asked curiously, dropping his guard as he stepped out of the house a little bit. "Roriko, you say?"

Sasori nodded and the man looked at him critically while rubbing his nose with a black smudged hand.

"Well, she wouldn't have sent you over if she hadn't thought you were good for the job, I guess," Tanaka began, looking a little reluctant as he rubbed the back of his head. "Do you know the kind of work that I need help with?"

"Something about an upcoming festival?" Sasori responded.

Tanaka nodded and said, "Yeah, if you couldn't tell, I'm the resident blacksmith."

At this, he pointed at the glaringly obvious neon bright sign next to him.

"I'll be setting up a booth with some of my stuff in two days during the festival," Tanaka told him. "But I don't have enough time to put the finishing touches on everything_ and_to build my booth. Plus I'll need someone to help me carry everything out there. Normally I'd get my son to help me, but he's got his own plans this year."

Tanaka crossed his arms at this and gave a displeased 'harrumph'.

"So, you good with your hands?" Tanaka went on, looking at Sasori's slim figure skeptically. Sasori fought the urge to smirk.

"I've got experience," Sasori told him.

"Well, we'll see," Tanaka conceded. "I'll pay you after the job is done. In the meantime, since you don't look like you're from around here, I'll put you up with a room. How does that sound?"

Sasori hadn't really planned on where he was going to be staying. In all honesty, he would probably just be staying in the woods or something, like he had for the past week. But if the man was offering, why refuse?

"That sounds fine," Sasori told him.

Tanaka grinned and rubbed at his nose again, making the smudge marks on his nose even more pronounced.

"Good. Well, if you've got all your stuff, let's get you settled in and started."

True to Sasori's estimations, when he had first heard of what was required of him, it only took him a day to finish making the booth. Tanaka had been impressed and had even let him keep the left over nails and wood that Sasori had managed not to waste.

"Are you going to be sticking around for the whole festival? It goes on for a couple of days, you know," Tanaka had asked him at the end of the day before the actual festivities began.

Sasori shrugged as he helped the blacksmith carry large crates of his merchandise to the front room of the house.

"Maybe."

"Perhaps you could even some performance like my fool son his doing," Tanaka suggested. "You seem like a resourceful guy, I'm sure that you could think of something to do to make a little extra cash. But if that doesn't work out, you could always help me at my both. I'd pay you a little extra."

Sasori considered both options. If he was completely honest, he hadn't really given much thought about staying for the full festival. Tanaka was going to be paying him decent amount for the job that he had done, so it wasn't like this whole thing had been a waste of time.

"I'll think about it," Sasori gave his vague reply.

Tanaka gave a displeased grunt in response, realizing when he was being brushed off, although he didn't say anything else on the subject.

Sasori seriously thought about it later that night, however. The question was, did he really want to degrade himself to the status of a performing monkey? On the other hand, money was money, and even though he was starting to sound more and more like Kakuzu, he did have a potentially marketable performance skill. After all, puppetry had started out as a form of entertainment, it probably wouldn't be _too_ degrading if he used his puppets to entertain a couple of townsfolk during a festival. He had the first puppet that he had made at Nobuko's with him still, but with the extra supplies Tanaka had given him, he had already started on another that looked similar, but was more flexible and had other handy functions integrated in its small form. Perhaps he could think of something to do with the both of them before tomorrow...

Sasori huffed a little along with Tanaka as they moved his boxes to the booth that had been set earlier that morning.

Tanaka breathed heavily as he let the box drop down onto the booth and told Sasori that he could leave if he wanted to.

"It looks like you've got somewhere that you want to be," Tanaka said. "You don't have to stay."

"Alright then," Sasori said. "I'll come back at around noon in case you want to take a break."

Tanaka raised his eyebrows in surprise at this. Sasori hadn't let him know yet that he was staying for the rest of the festival, but Tanaka had kind of gotten the feeling that Sasori would stay anyway. If only for the extra money that he would be getting by helping out.

"Okay, see you around noon," Tanaka nodded at Sasori as he started organizing his wares.

Sasori headed back to the house where he had left his puppets by the front door. He had finished the second puppet late last night and he had until the streets became crowded to think up a routine to entertain the mindless crowds. He didn't think that he would have too much trouble, but it hardly mattered. He was sure that no one could do what he could in this world. Very few people in his own world could control puppets with the techniques that he used. Unfortunately, this also brought up the problem of whether or not this would make the people here suspicious.

Sasori figured that he would have to make his routine light-hearted and funny enough so that it distracted people. He had two puppets now so he could probably act out some sort of scene that was comical enough for children, the ideal audience in this case. Perhaps he would have them act out a dance or some kind of theatrical fight. Sasori found a nondescript corner just outside the main hustle and bustle of activity and began to practice.

* * *

"Have you seen this one performer!" a random villager exclaimed loudly enough that it caught Tanaka's attention from his booth.

He had been making plenty of profit with the little trinkets and larger items he had been selling to show off his skill, but at the moment there was a lull in the crowd as the lunchtime hour grew near. Tanaka raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his table, trying to listen more closely.

"He's amazing! I've never seen anything like it!" the same villager was telling his bemused friend.

"What's his routine?" the friend asked as they passed by Tanaka's booth.

"These weird puppets!" the first one said, trying to urge his friend to go faster. "It looks like he controls them without any strings and they can do some pretty neat stuff too!"

"Fine, fine."

Tanaka looked in the direction they were headed and he found that he had to double take when he saw the large crowd that had amassed just around the corner. The crowd was cheering and growing in size the longer Tanaka stood there watching.

'I wonder where Sasori is,' Tanaka wondered, hoping that he would come soon so that he could see what was going on as well. 'I've never seen the villagers so hyped up about a street show before.'

"Hey, Dad."

Tanaka was startled by the sudden voice to his left, but turned to raise both of his eyebrows at his downtrodden looking son.

"Chojiro? I haven't seen you in a couple of days, what are you doing here?" Tanaka asked curiously.

Chojiro simply sighed heavily as he went behind the booth and sat down on one of the crates.

"It didn't work out," Chojiro said, obviously sulking. The baby fat that was still on his face made him look even more ridiculous. In all honesty, Tanaka knew that his son wouldn't have done brilliantly with the little side show he had worked on with his friends. But he had figured that it was good thing that his lazy son was taking some kind of initiative and was trying to do something for himself. Tanaka figured that even if it didn't work out too well, Chojiro would be having a good time with his friends and he would maybe discover a little something about himself. Plus, if he had forced him to help him out during the festival, the end results probably wouldn't have been pretty.

"What didn't?" Tanaka asked curiously. "You guys were practicing for a while, did you get cold feet?"

Chojiro his increasingly pout face by slumping his head onto the table and burying his frowning mouth into crossed arms.

"No," came the muffled reply, Chojiro moved his head so that his chin was laying on top of his forearms.

"We started out fine, but then everyone caught word of this other guy that was _awesome_," Chojiro said, rolling his eyes.

Tanaka stifled a chuckle and looked briefly in the direction of the large crowd that was still quite large and blocking the main portion of the road.

"Awesome, you say?"

"Yeah," Chojiro said. "Some puppet guy that just came to town. No one knows where he's from, but apparently he's _oh so_talented."

At this Chojiro started to mumble some things under his breath. Probably some unflattering things about the 'puppet guy' and his talent.

"Why'd he have to come into town _now_?" Chojiro complained.

"I'm not sure," Tanaka shrugged. "Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways."

"Uh-huh," Chojiro scoffed, his tone indicating that he didn't really believe his father. "Sure. Why not?"

"Well, if you've got nothing to do now, would you mind keeping an eye on the booth?" Tanaka asked cheerfully, slapping his son on the back.

"What?" Chojiro exclaimed, his body now standing up pin straight. "Wait! Dad! Wha- why?"

"Well, to check out what's going on, of course!" Tanaka pointed towards the mass of people that were clearly visible from around the corner.

"You can't!" Chojiro looked panicked now and confused, his eyes were wild.

"Sure, I can," Tanaka said, patting Chojiro on the back, his voice and movements were calm. "Now that I've got you here to look after things."

"B-But...Dad!" Chojiro protested.

"Now, now, Cho," Tanaka chuckled with good humor. "I've got a right to a little break. Besides I think I might know who this one is, if my hunch is correct."

After all, Sasori had put a couple of interesting wooden figures next to his door before they had left home that morning. Tanaka had questioned him about it, but the young man had simply shrugged. It never ceased to amaze him that although Sasori seemed to be around the same age as his son, he was infinitely more worldly, experienced, and capable. Not to mention his personality was completely different from his bumbling son's. Tanaka was hoping that this part of Chojiro's character would change in time, but it now, after so long, it seemed unlikely.

"Daaadddd!"

Tanaka chuckled as he jogged down the street towards the crowd that he been watching for quite some time. He used his elbows to work his way through the crowd, standing on his tiptoes to try and look over the heads of the people swarming the puppeteer. Tanaka cursed his slightly below average height and used his elbows a little more. Tanaka soon realized that the crowd was so big because they were giving the puppeteer a wide berth so that he had enough room for a stage. He was able to peek his head between the shoulders of two other men and they hardly noticed him due to their own boisterous clapping and cheering. Tanaka grinned when he saw the bright red hair and the familiar dark red kimono clad figure it was attached to.

'I knew it!' Tanaka thought as he grinned widely as he took in the dramatic little show that the small puppets were performing in front of them. Tanaka cheered along with all the others and grinned even wider when he saw all of the money that was being thrown at Sasori.

'He's really doing well for himself, isn't he?' Tanaka thought. The little figures were now enacting an epic battle of sorts, the two of them running around the 'stage', the movements so realistic that you could practically imagine the kind of people that would be having this kind of fight. Well, sort of. It wasn't as if anyone in this town would actually know something like that, but it definitely gave them a great chance to use their imaginations.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now," Sasori told the crowd, his low voice somehow managing to cut through the noise of the entire crowd.

Predictably many of the people started protesting, loudly.

"I'll be here at the same time tomorrow," Sasori insisted as he collected his puppets and all the money that had thrown at the ground. Tanaka watched, amused, as several people went up to the irritable looking young man. They looked as if they were either trying to convince him to continue performing or thanking him. Either way, it looked like Sasori was going to fly into a murderous rage sooner rather than later.

Tanaka ran up to the small group that had formed around Sasori and made good use of his elbows once again.

"Sasori!" he called, catching the attention of the red head as well as the people around him. "There you are!"

Tanaka walked up to his side and placed a hand onto his shoulder.

"I need your help back at the booth. Since you're finished up here, mind helping me out?" Tanaka gave Sasori a cheeky grin.

Sasori rolled his eyes, but gave a grunt in agreement.

"Very well then," he said to Tanaka. "Goodbye."

Tanaka winced at the icy tone, but luckily his newest fans hadn't picked up on it and gradually cleared a path for the two of them to walk through. Tanaka put his arm around Sasori's shoulders, guiding him through, ignoring the slight glare that this action had gotten him.

Once they were far enough a way and half way to the booth where Chojiro was still sulking, Tanaka looked back to make sure that they were all dispersing and let out a sigh.

"Wow, Sasori," Tanaka said, taking his arm off of Sasori's shoulders, much to his relief. "You got real popular, real fast, didn't you?"

Sasori shrugged, but said, "I guess."

The little bag that he had put all of his earnings in jingled slightly. Tanaka eyed the obese looking bag curiously.

"How much do you think you got?" Tanaka asked conversationally.

Sasori shrugged again, not really caring for the mindless conversation.

"A lot, I suppose."

When they reached the booth, Chojiro scowled at Sasori, although Tanaka wasn't sure if it was because he knew that the red head was the one that had taken away whatever audience he had been getting or if he was just being his usual surly self.

"Oh, Chojiro, I guess you haven't met Sasori yet. He's been helping me out for the past couple of days," Tanaka said happily as he gave Sasori one last pat on the shoulder.

Chojiro scowled some more and grunted his greeting before reburying his face into his rolled his eyes and looked to Tanaka.

"Did you need me here?" Sasori asked, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Not really, now that Chojiro's here," Tanaka told him as he sorted through some of his things. "You can still stick around, of course. I did promise you that if you helped me out, you could stay longer."

"Fine," Sasori said as he sat down at the booth and crossed his arms. Chojiro was giving him a glare from underneath the hair that was obscuring his eyes.

"I'm going to get some lunch. Do you boys want anything?" Tanaka asked. He grinned when both of them flinched when he called them 'boys'.

"Sure," Sasori answered for the both of them. Chojiro glared at the other some more, but reluctantly nodded his head as well.

"Alright then," Tanaka said. "I heard that there's a great placed to get some grilled eel just around the corner. I'll be back in no time!"

The scene that Tanaka left behind him was certainly the funniest thing he had seen in sometime. His moody son with a dark cloud hanging over his head was glaring at the stoic red head counting the money that he had earned not too long ago. Maybe Chojiro _did_ know that Sasori was the one that had gotten that huge crowd.

Tanaka laughed to himself some more. Things certainly were more interesting around this time of year.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

Kuukaku sat down heavily at one of the tables.

"I want a beer!" she yelled and several of the waitresses jumped looking over at the young fireworks master with the false limb.

"Coming right up, Lady Kuukaku!" One of the braver waitresses cried as she made her way towards the kitchen.

Kuukaku grumbled a little bit as she used her good arm to take out her pipe and lit it. She inhaled, making the embers at the end of it glow brighter, and exhaled with a sigh. It had been a long day for the eldest Shiba. Dealing with her younger brother was always a trial for her, but doing so when his pride had been wounded was always annoying beyond belief. He had spent all day loafing around, sulking, no matter how many times she kicked him in the back.

She had tried to weasel what had happened out of him, but the only thing that she was able to get was that it had happened in the next town over while he was gallivanting around with his stupid friends while riding his fat pig. Kuukaku rolled her eyes and scowled, pushing out another breath and the tendrils of smoke swirled around her terrifying the townspeople even more.

"Here you are Lady Kuukaku!"

The waitress had finally come back with her alcohol and as soon as the younger girl had placed the sizable pint down onto the table, Kuukaku had picked it up and drained a large portion of it. Thankfully, the establish was well used to the odd habits of the local fireworks woman, even if the customers were less so, and the waitress simply went to the back to get another beer ready. It seemed that the Lady Shiba was _not_ in a good mood. They might even have to contact her two assistants, Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko, to help drag the soon-to-be drunk out of her without making _too_ much of a fuss.

"Starting in early are you?"

"Hahh?" Kuukaku sounded rudely as she stopped chugging her booze to glare at the one that had decided to disturb her when she was in one of her moods. She startled when she realized who was sitting in front of her.

"Tanaka?" Kuukaku asked, sipping at her nearly completed beer. "Yukimaru Tanaka?"

"The one and the same," the blacksmith grinned as he sat down across from her, slamming his own beer down on the table in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Kuukaku asked rudely, although notably not as rudely as she would have to most. The regulars and the staff realized this and went back to what they were doing, having been startled when Tanaka had decided to poke a ticking time bomb with a lit match. However, Tanaka just shrugged and took a gulp of his drink.

"It was a long day," Tanaka explained. "You know, with the festival and all. I decided to take a break."

"Oh, yeah?" Kuukaku said, her tone curious as she raised an eyebrow. "How did you do on the first day?"

"Not bad," Tanaka replied with a ridiculous smile on his face making Kuukaku think that he had done better than Tanaka was letting on. "I just came here to wind down, my son's been sulking up a storm, and as hilarious as that can be for the first twenty minutes, it gets a little tiring after you here the sixtieth sigh."

"Really?" Kuukaku asked, thinking on her own problems with her brother. "What set him off?"

Tanaka chuckled a little into his glass before answering.

"Oh, the usual," Tanaka told her. "Chojiro tried to perform with his friends for the festival, but someone else attracted all of the crowds away with something better."

Kuukaku laughed at the thought of Tanaka's stupid lump of a son actually doing something interesting or useful.

"Who was the guy?"

"That was what actually made the whole thing even better," Tanaka said, his grin wider than ever. "It turns out that the kid I hired to help me out during the festival was the one that made a killing doing some puppet show that drove everyone wild. He's pretty handy to have around too."

Kuukaku gave Tanaka a blank stare at this, feeling a disgusted sigh working its way up from the back of her throat.

"Puppets?" Kuukaku asked incredulously. "That's what's got everyone worked up. Some kid and a couple of puppets?"

"Well, it's not as simple as that," Tanaka said, trying to defend all the hype that was following around his newest house guest. "It's the way that he does it really."

"How does he do it then?" Kuukaku asked, more out of the commitment to continue the conversation along rather than out of actual interest. "I mean, seriously, wooden toys and a couple of strings. What's the big deal?"

Tanaka huffed and crossed his arms, brows furrowing as he sensed the complete lack of interest that he was getting from the other side of the conversation.

"That's the thing, he doesn't _use_ strings," Tanaka told her. "They're without strings, although he still controls them somehow."

"What?" Kuukaku's interest in the conversation had just been revived and now she looked more confused than anything trying to figure out the logic in that statement. "That's not possible."

"It doesn't sound like it could, does it?" Tanaka admitted. "But I swear that's what happened. Now that I think about it, I remember seeing his hands twitching a lot, but he wasn't holding anything in his hands."

"The strings were probably just attached to his fingers," Kuukaku dismissed with a wave of her hand, turning her body to the side so that she could lean into the corner of her booth and cross her legs. "And there is such a thing as invisible wires you know. I know it doesn't _look_like there's anything there, but if you look closely enough-"

"I know what invisible wires are," Tanaka said, his voice had the flat tone that practically screamed 'what-do-you-think-that-I'm-an-idiot-or-something? '. "And that would make sense if the puppets had stayed right by his feet the entire time."

"What do you mean?" Kuukaku asked bringing the beer to her lips once more as she an eyebrow in curiosity at this new rebuttal.

"I mean that the puppets were all over the place. They looked like they were _alive_," Tanaka said, using enough emphasis that it made Kuukaku want to grit her teeth. "If they were on strings, they sure didn't look like it. I'm pretty sure that things that you can't control something six feet away from you with some invisible wires."

"You'd be surprised," Kuukaku muttered under her breath.

"At least not the way he was doing it," Tanaka said quickly, overriding Kuukaku so that she wouldn't interrupt the flow of his argument.

"Haaa..." Kuukaku sighed, dumping some of the ashes out of the pipe that she had been neglecting for the past few minutes.

"What's he look like?"

Tanaka blinked a little at the suddenness of the random question, but he smirked when he realized that he had won the argument. Kuukaku's eyes narrowed when she realized what the man was thinking.

'_For now_...' she swore in her mind. '_You won this time, but later...'_

"He's fairly young looking," Tanaka said, shrugging. "I think he's older than he looks though. He certainly acts like a crotchety old man most of the time. He's fairly slender too. I honestly didn't think he'd be much help lifting things, but he proved me wrong pretty fast. Shaggy bright red hair and brown eyes... he's a bit of a pretty boy, but you once you actually talk to him, that spell disappears real fast."

"So he's a grumpy, pretty boy?" Kuukaku summed up. "And you really think that he's 'older than he looks'? Sounds like the standard teenage idiot to me."

Tanaka rolled his eyes, but answered, "You just have to meet him to understand. When I have a conversation with him I feel like I'm talking to some one my age, not like I'm talking to my son."

"...Is that so?" Kuukaku asked rather skeptically, thinking of being able to have a normal conversation with her own brother like she did with her old friend Yoruichi.

"Well, Kuukaku, I guess I'll see you around," Tanaka said, getting up while draining the last of his drink.

"Yeah, alright," Kuukaku said, staying seated. "Maybe I'll stop by tomorrow or something."

Tanaka waved to her as he walked out the door. Kuukaku took a deep drag on her pipe as she thought of what she had been told. It certainly was one of the weirder things she had heard of in quite some time and it was definitely worth looking into.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter eleven**

Kuukaku stared at 'humble' home of her friend. The bright orange kanji that read 'Tanaka' was hugely painted at the side of his house while 'blacksmith' was written beneath it, only difference being that it was in blue and smaller. Next to Kuukaku was none other than Ganju Shiba, her idiot of a younger brother. Needless to say, he was quite unhappy with being there.

"C'mon sis, do we have to be here?" Ganju looked at Kuukaku.

"There's something I wanna check out. Quiet unless you want your tongue cut off." she threatened.

Ganju's mouth immediately shut. Kuukaku stepped forward to the door and knocked (more like banged) on it. It took a few seconds of waiting until the door slightly opened, showing a plump and short boy with short spiky hair. Before Kuukaku could ask him where his father was, he slammed the door shut in her face. Ganju was smart, for once, and backed away, far far away, from his sister once the killing intent in the air was painfully obvious and menacing. Kuukaku's face darkened as the killing intent grew by the second. Her mouth twitched into a scowl and her irises decreased to the size of an ant while her eyes grew larger than the moons. She walked closer towards the closed door that had just smacked her in the face and banged on it so hard that it fell to the floor. Stomping inside, Kuukaku searched for her target. Once she got sight of the surprised expression on the plump boy, she pounced on him before he could utter a word. The punches, kicks, and muffled screaming led to loud bangs throughout the house. This did not go unnoticed by its residences.

"Chojiro? What're you-" Tanaka gawked at the sight before him. It took him a good few minutes to recovered before putting his hands in front of him defensively, "Uh...Kuukaku...I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill my son..."

Kuukaku stopped violently shaking Chojiro, who was knocked out cold and drooling at the moment, to turn her glare towards the father of the boy, "Why should I?"

"...Because..." the father went in thinking mode, only to come up with nothing in five minutes, "Okay what're you here for Kuukaku? Actually finding an interest in the boy?"

The messy black haired woman dropped the unconscious boy on the floor, kicking him aside for the time being. Her eyes turned serious and her scowl turned into a frown. Ganju had now entered the house, a few feet away from his sister just in case she flips her lid again.

"I was just curious about how he used certain methods to make the puppets look _alive_," she emphasized the last word, mocking Tanaka's tone yesterday which earned her a slight glare.

"So you wanna see how he does his puppet shows?" Tanaka asked, pretty sure that if his son wasn't unconscious at the moment, he'd whine up a storm.

The woman shrugged, "I guess. Something that weird must be interesting. And life's been boring recently so why not."

Tanaka slightly smirked at Kuukaku's blunt answer, "Well, he's upstairs in his room. I'll call him down now." Tanaka turned to the staircase that was next to the door's left and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting "Sasori!"

The three of them stood there waiting for the said boy. A moment later, brown sandals with white socks appeared at the top of the stairs. After walking down a couple of steps, more of the boy was revealed, such as the bottom of his dark green robe decorated with bamboos. When he stepped down enough steps to reveal his unkempt maroon hair and lazy chocolate brown eyes, Ganju tensed and backed up, making incoherent noises while pointing at Sasori with an accusing finger. With this, Sasori stopped in the middle of the staircase, looking at the idiot that was at loss for words. When Sasori finally managed to recognize him, his eyes widened a slight fraction, but soon they were back to their half closed state. Kuukaku and Tanaka looked back at Sasori and Ganju, both confused to how they knew each other.

"Cat got your tongue?" Kuukaku put her left arm on her waist, looking at her brother.

Sasori now looked at Kuukaku, as if just noticing her presence. His eyes slowly moved downward and more to the right from where the three was standing. Tanaka was the first to break the awkward silence in the room.

"So...how do you guys know each other?"

"He was annoying me so I threw him to the ground and his...companions...chased me on large wild boars." Sasori answered nonchalantly, as if it happened every single day.

Tanaka turned to Sasori and widened his eyes a bit, scolding the red head, "Sasori! You can't just throw someone to the ground if they annoy you!" much like a father scolding his son.

"He was practically harassing me." Sasori turned his lazy eyes to Tanaka.

As if by magic, Ganju snapped out of his state and he tensed up while the finger pointing at Sasori straightened, "Me? Harassing you? You're the one who threw me to the ground!"

Kuukaku pointed a prosthetic finger at Sasori, "Hahh? This? This is the guy you were sulking about?"

Sasori turned his head towards her, gaze still lingering on Kuukaku's right arm. Ganju hurled insults at the speed of 200 mph at the uncaring red head who was too absorbed in the woman's prosthetic arm. Kuukaku and Tanaka couldn't help but wonder why he was so intrigued by it. Everyone who was still conscious in the room decided to ignore his insults.

"Ah Sasori, let me introduce you to Kuukaku. She was curious about your puppet performances. Care to give her a show?" asked Tanaka.

Sasori looked at her, eyeing her strangely with a red eyebrow raised. He pondered about the question, then when he finally came up with something, he answered.

"No." he flatly rejected.

In a flash, Kuukaku was in rage mode once again. Gritting her teeth, she managed to spit out a "What did you say, _brat_?"

When Sasori heard the word _brat_, especially the way she heavily emphasized on it, his usual calm eyes now bore holes in Kuukaku. The said woman raised her brow at the strange look in his eyes. Tanaka was right, he had this...feel...to him that he was actually older than he looked. As if he were an adult wise beyond his years. And the looks in his eyes said the obvious. He was not someone you wanted to hang around with or even be with in a thousand mile radius when he was angered.

"I said no." his tone was murderous.

Tanaka's eyes widened in fear as he took a step back. Kuukaku however, did not turn away, "Why's that, _brat_? Got somethin' to hide?" purposely trying to provoke him.

His eyes narrowed, making him seem more angered than he did before. The killing intent around him intensified and it sent chills down Kuukaku's spine. When she looked deep into his eyes, her eyes expanded as the world slowly contorted into darkness with just the two of them. Sweat rolled down her forehead even though she felt cold with fear. Was this what Sasori really like? No wonder why Ganju was scared shitless and speechless. If looks could kill, Sasori would've killed millions in faster than the speed of sound. Before Kuukaku could check if she wasn't hallucinating, something red and menacing appeared behind Sasori. As it struck for Kuukaku, she found herself unable to move, glued to the spot where she stood. As it tightly wrapped itself around her abdomen, she could make out what the thing was: a scorpion tail, dripping of what seemed to be...poison? Her face was etched with pain and her vision blurred. However, the tail snaked its way to her neck, grasping it as tight as a boa constrictor. Her hands shakily reached towards the poison laced tail, trying her hardest to rip it off but miserably failing.

* * *

Sasori glared at the woman he now held with his scorpion tail. He did _not_ liked to be called a brat, a term that he used. When that thought popped up, Kuukaku choked out a cough. Oops. Sasori had let his annoyance get in the way a bit. Before Sasori had come down, he had a suspicious feeling to perform a Genjutsu downstairs, now he knew why. Judging from the shock on the woman's face at first, he assumed that there wasn't any Genjutsu in this 'world'. Such a strange, strange world this is. First, chakra was replaced reiryoku, and by some miracle, he didn't even get sent to Hell, and now there wasn't such a thing as Genjutsu? Sasori assumed that since there was no Genjutsu, there must be no Ninjutsu or Taijutsu. He wondered about the Shinigami and what they could do, seeing as how they had no knowledge of any Jutsu in his old world.

Perhaps he shall ask Kuukaku, she seemed full of knowledge. And besides, Sasori's eyes landed on her right arm. Perhaps he could strike up a deal. Lead her in like a mouse with cheese, and when she least expects it..._Snap_ goes the mouse trap. With this thought in mind, he released the Genjutsu.

* * *

The tail tightened as oxygen failed to enter her lungs, despite how badly she needed it. Kuukaku's grip on the hard, wet surface of it failed to linger on. One of her arms slowly dropped to her side, swaying to a stop and laying there limp. She tried to breathe through her mouth, which was now wide open, but it failed. Her cries of help failed, managing to come out a choked gasps. Her already blurred vision turned dark. Eventually it went black.

"Kuukaku!" Tanaka shook her violently by her shoulders. She blinked her half closed eyes, suddenly jumping and tensing up when memories filled her head.

"Wh-what happened?" she asked. Her head was now throbbing with pain. When she brought her hands to her forehead to try and ease the pain, it failed.

"You were suddenly making gagging noises while staring at Sasori. What happened to you?" Tanaka's voice laced with concern.

Kuukaku fixed her gaze in his eyes. So no one else saw or felt that. Had...had that been an illusion? It seemed possible, highly possible. But...but how? He didn't even have a Zanpakutō. Or did he...? Before she could come up with logical possibilities for this mysterious incident, Sasori called her attention.

"Kuukaku...was it? You asked if I could put on a puppet performance for you? I change my answer," he said with a small smile, "Come upstairs and I'll show you."

With that said, Sasori turned about and started walking up the stairs. The three of them stared at the man until his figure was far too up to see. Ganju turned his head towards his older sister.

"Do I need to come too?" Ganju's voice was serious.

"Tch, I can fend myself way better than you, baka." Kuukaku stepped forward towards the stairs.

Ganju didn't argue back. In fact, he just stared as his sister took each step, slowly reaching the top. The man had first declined, as if hiding something. Quite suspicious, thought Ganju. He was always a suspicious one from Day 1 Ganju had met him. What could he be up to...?

* * *

Sasori went up to where his makeshift room was, purposely leaving the door open for Kuukaku. He knew that she'd take awhile till she got up here, which is exactly why he went ahead first. This way, he'd be able to set up his puppets. Clearing the middle of the room was not a hard task, seeing as how Sasori barely had anything in the room to begin with. Once he was done, Kuukaku entered with perfect timing. She leaned on the doorway's frame, arms crossed. Sasori let a small smirk cross his mouth, let the show...begin.

* * *

To say that it was the most strangest and fascinating thing Kuukaku's seen in...years, was an understatement. The puppets looked as if they were flying. Each of them moved graciously and swiftly. There was absolutely no flaws or anything. Free of mistakes. How a person could even do this, especially...without strings...Tanaka had been right. You had to see it for yourself to understand. At the height and distance that Sasori put between him and the puppets, it seemed impossible to do with invisible wires. Kuukaku had studied his movements with extreme detail and how he did it was still unfathomable. How could he be doing all this? When the performance drew to a close, Sasori had stopped his puppets only to make themselves walk towards the corner of the room where Kuukaku assumed to be where they belonged.

"How?" was all Kuukaku asked. Sasori shrugged, much to her annoyance. "Invisible wires, perhaps?" Kuukaku assumed, not really believing it herself.

Sasori scoffed, "No. Why would I ever use such a thing?" Kuukaku studied him for a few minutes. Sasori was the first to break the silence this time, "You're probably wondering why I changed my answer."

The woman shrugged, "More or less."

"I...have a proposition to make," Sasori's eyes narrowed a millimeter, "You seem like a wise woman full of information. Do you know about Shinigamis?"

Now it was her turn to scoff, "Everyone knows Shinigamis here," about to call him "brat" again but quickly caught herself, "Why do you wanna know?"

"As you may have already guessed, I'm a new soul. And I have interest in becoming one." Kuukaku narrowed her eyes. Sasori ignored this and went on, "So...will you tell me about Shinigami and their abilities...? Along with how to become one."

"And what will you give me?"

"A new arm." Sasori pointed to Kuukaku's artificial limb, "Better quality, more endurance, and more...realistic in terms of appearance and motion."

Kuukaku considered this. It wasn't such a bad deal. In fact, the one that she had currently was starting to break down and was becoming a hindrance. And besides, he only wanted to learn how to be a Shinigami. He couldn't be some evil mastermind. If he had in his past life, he would've went to Hell most likely. And he said he was a new soul, which was quite obvious.

"Deal."

Sasori allowed himself to smirk a little. Not as much as how he felt, seeing as that might raise suspicion. The mouse had taken the bait. And _Snap_ went the trap.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter twelve**

Kuukaku flexed her new right arm, grinning when she was pleased with the fine, swift movements. It was such a relief for Sasori, having to be rid of the sight of the shoddily contructed fake arm. After all of his experience with wooden body parts, the mere existence of such a piece of crap put him on edge. Sasori examined the room that they were now in. There wasn't much to look at, just a table where Sasori and Kuukaku sat at with simple walls and doors. They were now in the home of Kuukaku Shiba. After getting used to her heavily improved arm, Kuukaku grinned broadly at Sasori.

"Nice job, kid." apparently have forgotten yesterday's events with the Genjutsu already.

Sasori sighed heavily on the nickname, quite displeased with it but decided that it was at least better than brat. 'I swear...a thirty-five year old should _not_ be called a _kid_.' Sasori thought in his head.

"...and is that young? Adolescence or something?" Kuukaku asked, repeating one of the terms she had heard being used frequently about kids that seemed to be around this one's age. But Sasori simply snorted, rolling his eyes, mentally wanting to slap himself for accidentally talking aloud. He should be more aware of what comes out of his mouth when he was beyond annoyed.

"No. I'm more near middle age," Sasori told her.

"Then why do you look so young?" Kuukaku demanded, finding it hard that someone who had died older had come to the Soul Society looking like a snot nosed brat. Usually people took on the appearance of the age that they had been right before they had died. What made this guy so special?

"It's complicated," was all the Sasori answered, not even bothering to explain everything. It wasn't something he had the patience to do, especially not with this woman.

"It is a kid compared to a lot of residences here. So deal with it, kid." Kuukaku's grin spread across her face as payback for his arrogance and cockiness.

"So are you gonna tell me about Shinigamis or not?" the man asked with impatience ringing in his voice.

"Why do you even wanna know?" Kuukaku eyed him strangely.

"Just curious." Sasori leaned his chin on his hand which was set on the table. Kuukaku silently growled.

"What can you tell me about the Seireitei?" Sasori changed the question.

Really he was only asking because he had never seen any sign of it while travelling and everyone that lived in the Rukongai seemed to be completely clueless about the place except the fact that both shinigami and the nobles lived there. However, Sasori had not been anticipating the peculiar tightness that had developed in Kuukaku's expression.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity," Sasori answered truthfully, now even more curious than he had been before.

Kuukaku sighed and laid her elbow down onto her lap, propping her chin up into the palm of her hand.

"Well," Kuukaku began tentatively. "There's a lot I can tell you seeing that I used to live there."

Sasori felt his face scrunch up in confusion.

"Then why-"

"It's complicated," Kuukaku said shortly, her tone not inviting any questions on that particular subject about the past. "But I'll tell something, I guess.

"Well, you probably already know that shinigami live there, most of the nobility as well."

Sasori nodded even though Kuukaku didn't even look at him, she seemed to be lost in her own world.

"The Shiba used to be one of the five most influential noble clans. We... dwindled, however, and we lost out status. Now there are four noble clans. They form a part of the government and all other lesser noble clans serve one of them."

Sasori took in the information, wondering about all the things that she wasn't telling him. Ultimately it didn't really matter and Sasori knew that he would probably get himself stabbed if he tried.

"But anyway," Kuukaku went on, "The shinigami are all a part of the 13 Court Guard Squads, or the Gotei 13. There are a lot of other little branches and sections, but I won't mention those. There's also the Chamber 46, which is a kind of judiciary department, although they have influence in other areas. Generally, they have a reputation for unforgiving, arrogant bastards, but I doubt that you'll have anything to do with them personally."

"Where is the Seireitei? Someone told me about the districts of Rukongai, but-"

"Did they tell you there were only eighty?" Kuukaku asked wryly, knowing the answer she would get.

"Yes..." Sasori wondered what she was getting to.

"Well, whoever you asked was partially right. There are eighty districts in this part of Rukongai, west Rukongai, but there are three other sectors that have eighty districts as well. All in all, there are three hundred and twenty."

"Uh-huh."

Sasori wondered why Nobuko had told him differently. Maybe she herself hadn't known this.

"Anything else?"

"How does one become a shinigami?" Sasori asked this time, getting to what he really wanted to ask.

To be honest, Sasori was, frankly, _bored_ in this world. Selling tea and helping old grannies wasn't what Sasori wanted at all in life, and travelling through all 80 districts would be okay, but he'd have to always do odd jobs to just make a living, and that wasn't what Sasori wanted to do with his whole afterlife. Besides, he was too used to the life he had lived before and it seemed that becoming a Shinigami might be the closest thing that he could get to the purpose that he had had in his life before. Of course, this time there would be much more at stake if he decided to go rogue, but these problems could be addressed when the time called for it.

"What?" Kuukaku spat back, now sporting the confused look herself. "Why do you want to know that? And don't say curiosity or I _will_ punch you."

"Why do you keep asking why do I wanna know?" Sasori retorted.

This kid was getting on Kuukaku's last nerves. Gritting her teeth, she could feel her blood pressure rising like yeast in an oven. But she decided it'd be more smarter to take the calmer approach to this.

"Keeping possible career options open," Sasori answered, his tone too bland to be cheeky, but somehow it still had the same effect.

"Urgh," Kuukaku grunted, still feeling the urge to punch the red head, but controlling it, "There's an academy that you have to be enrolled in. If you're qualified, you get schooled for six years and then you get assigned to a division to start out as a grunt. Unless you're a noble or a prodigy or something."

"What makes a person qualified?"

"Don't you mean to say 'am I qualified'?" Kuukaku snarked at him. Sasori shrugged in response. "Yeah, I'd say you were although I'm not sure what they look for exactly. You might even make it into one of the advanced classes."

"I see," Sasori said absentmindedly as he thought on this. It was good to know that he had a good chance, but a little aggravating that he had to go back to the academy. Granted, it probably wouldn't be too similar since he wouldn't he be eight years old this time, but still. He felt that he was long past the point that he belonged in school.

"What would I be learning?"

Kuukaku sighed before rolling her eyes. She had been hoping that he was done after the last question, but it seemed that the question barrage was going to continue.

"What you need to know," Kuukaku answered, delighting in pissing him off with a vague answer, but she elaborated. "Sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat, hohou: the art of agility and speed used in footwork, and kidou: the various spells that a shinigami can use for either healing, defense, or combat."

"... okay," Sasori hadn't really expected that much detail, but any information that he could get could be used to his advantage.

"Anything else that you've got to get off your chest?" Kuukaku asked, snark once again at full force.

"No, I'm good," Sasori said.

"Good, 'cause I gotta few questions of my own." the woman smirked. Sasori had a bad feeling already.

"Why don't you have a surname?"

"Classified."

"What did techniques did you use for your puppet performances?"

"Classified."

"How do you look so young?"

"Classified."

"What were you when you were alive?"

"What do you mean?"

Kuukaku huffed at the other's intentional obtuseness. She knew that he knew what she meant.

"You know what I mean. You probably did something to keep yourself occupied. What was it?"

Sasori wondered whether or not he should answer that, but in the end and in true shinobi fashion he decided to answer as vaguely as possible.

"Puppetry among other classified things."

"Why's everything classified?"

"Classified."

Kuukaku slammed her fists down on the table she was leaning on. Oh how badly she wanted to kill this punk. Sasori seemed to be enjoying her rage, smirking a bit. This only spiked Kuukaku's blood pressure through the roof. She felt her face being hot with rage, desperately wanting to maim the red head extremely slowly and painfully. She slowly breathed in, and exhaled the oxygen that had once been in her lungs with a sigh. Finally calming down, as much as Kuukaku Shiba can, she looked at the red head once more.

"Okay, here's another question. One you _can't_ say 'classified' to ya lil' brat. How about letting me train you?"

"I reject."

It was seriously hard to control her anger when this kid was around, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

Sasori narrowed his eyes, "I reject." he repeated, slowly enouncing every syllable.

"You lil brat!" Kuukaku spat out, eyes comically wide with anger, "Why not?" What the hell gave this little punk that right to say no to her?

Sasori waved his hand in an 'I pass' motion, "No," Sasori repeated. "I've seen what your little brother can do and I'm unimpressed. I'd rather take my chances out there."

Kuukaku felt her temper dampen as she heard his explanation. She would probably react the same way to someone who wanted to teach her and the only evidence of their teaching she had was Ganju.

"Ganju doesn't count. I _have_ to take care of him," Kuukaku shrugged. "But I know what I'm doing. How about this, I'll introduce you to one of my friends who can take you to the Academy for training? That is..._if_ you undergo my training."

Sasori contemplated about this. It would be nice to have someone show him the way, especially since he'd have no idea where's what and what's even going on. Besides, all he had to do was just train with this crazy woman. That should be easy enough.

"Okay."

Kuukaku grinned in victory at this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter thirteen**

Kuukaku marched down the hallway towards the room where she had left the red head to wait and she carried one of the orbs that helped concentrate and create a barrier of spiritual energy. This was the best way she could think of to see if he had any kind of control over his reiatsu. She'd also ask to see if he could suppress the little bit of reiatsu he had. After that... Kuukaku grinned. She got to take him to her sparring room and beat the crap out of him. Finally, she'd get the revenge she had been waiting for.

She finally arrived to his door and she promptly flung the door open, grinning down at the red head who was looking ready to pass out from boredom. She flung the orb at him and grinned wider when he fumbled a little bit before he caught it.

"Can you focus you reiatsu into there for me?" Kuukaku asked as she leaned against the wall. Sasori picked up the orb and stood a fair distance away from his things he had brought with him on this visit.

"And what is the point of this?" Sasori asked with a brow raised.

"To create a barrier of reiatsu around yourself. This will test the degree of control that you have."

"Right."

Sasori looked down at the orb and closed his eyes. He focused on his energy, making his chakra expand. He channeled it through the orb and when he opened his eyes he was met with a light blue glow of the barrier and the stunned face of the woman in front of him.

"Is that it?" Sasori asked haughtily.

Kuukaku scowled, but she was actually impressed. She knew that he would probably succeed in this exercise and she also knew that he had a great deal of control over his reiatsu, but she hadn't expected him to be able to do it so perfectly, so quickly. Maybe on the second or third try, but not on the first when he could barely suppress his reiatsu, letting it leak everywhere when she first met him.

"Well, you've showed me that you have impressive control, but can you supress your spiritual signature to make it unnoticable?"

Sasori stopped supplying the orb with his energy and tossed it back to the Shiba. She caught it, the smirk back onto her face.

"Very well."

Sasori figured that this wouldn't be any different than hiding his chakra and it seemed as if he was right. He felt his presence recede from the room and retreat into himself. His form was brimming with tightly coiled energy. It definitely took a lot more out of him than it would normally, but he was still able to manage it.

Again, Kuukaku was fairly impressed especially with the skill that he showed on the first try. She wondered how he was able to know what to. Especially since he had no frame of reference for the skills. Perhaps he had the skill to do these things while he was still alive? It seemed unlikely that he had any reiatsu while still mortal, it was a very rare occurence after all, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he had done this before.

"Well, alright then," she said, a little annoyed that he had been able to complete the exercises without a hitch, but she had kind of been expecting it, "Now let's see how good you can fight in hand-to-hand combat, no reiatsu allowed."

Sasori raised a red eyebrow but still followed the excited Shiba into a dojo room of sorts. It looked just like any other dojo that Sasori had seen in his past life. Walking to the center of the room, Kuukaku lowered her stance by a bit, holding her hands sideways in front of her. Sasori stepped forward and mimicked her position, eyes examining for any muscle movement to indicate what she was gonna do, when, and where. Kuukaku appeared to do the same. After a few seconds of blank staring, the two of them charged at each other.

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Panting heavily, the two of them laid on the mats of the dojo next to each other, arms spread apart. The match was even, but Sasori had been stronger by just a little and tripped Kuukaku. In the middle of her fall, Sasori punched her face to the ground. Thus, how she collapsed on the mats. Sasori, slouched over, soon fell on the mats from exhaustion. Because of the two of them being even in strength, the fight had dragged on for 18 hours. Sasori had made a mental note to train his body even harder to expand his endurance and strength later after this.

"You...seriously...are...ruthless...kid..." Kuukaku said between gasps of much needed oxygen.

"Like...you...aren't...?" Sasori countered.

Kuukaku didn't even have enough energy to smirk at that. Sasori however, pushed himself up from the ground. Though it took awhile, he even stood up, though still bent over like a dead zombie, with his arms limp in front of him.

"Guess you won the fight, kid." Kuukaku closed her eyes, her panting decreasing rapidly. Sasori's posture straightened more as he inhaled the oxygen that his lungs so desired.

"What about your friend?" he asked.

Kuukaku smirked, "What friend? You seriously think I'd befriend some bastard in there after what happened to the Shiba clan? You're crazier than I thought, kid."

Sasori growled, nearly going over there and kicking the Shiba's digestive system apart, but he refrained from doing so.

"So how will I get there?" his gaze bore holes in the woman.

"I'll give you directions."

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Sasori looked up at the large gate in front of him. Kuukaku had told him that the giant, Jidanbo, that guarded the gate wouldn't be able to let him pass without any clearance from the Shinigami, but if he specified that he wanted to go to the Shinigami Academy than he would be given a temporary pass that would allow him to go to the academy to take the entrance exams. If he passed he would be given a permanent pass that would allow him to come and go from the Seireitei to the Rukon district without any problems. Although, if he didn't pass, he would be asked to leave.

Sasori was feeling pretty confident that he would pass, but first things first. He looked up at the giant that was looming over him.

"Good morning," Sasori greeted with all the courtesy that he could muster, getting the feeling that he didn't want to piss this guy off.

"Good morning," the giant returned the greeting, looking pleased with the encounter. Sasori took this as a good sign. "Do you have a pass?"

"No," Sasori told him.

But when he saw the giant begin to pick up his axe he quickly added, "But I'd like to be taken to the Shinigami Academy."

Jidanbo rested the axe back down and looked down at the tiny red head curiously.

"To the academy?" he repeated. "Well alright. Just wait here and I'll get someone to escort you. There's nothing much going on today so there should be a lot of people with some free time to spare."

Sasori nodded and watched as the giant to signaled for the gate to be opened. Once this was done, he spoke shortly to one of the Shinigami inside and another one came out, looking for the person who had requested clearance to be escorted to the academy.

"Name?" the bored looking man in black robes asked.

Sasori studied the man for a second, noting that he looked like some kind of cross between a samurai and a monk.

"Sasori. No surname." Sasori told him.

The Shinigami raised an eyebrow at this. Even the people who didn't have clans usually made up a name for themselves, but whatever. It wasn't like it was necessary exactly. Plus he doubted such a gangly looking kid would even make it through the entrance exams, but they were required to give everyone a fair chance at entering the academy.

"Alright," he said, turning and motioning to the other that he should follow. "Come with me. See you later, Jidanbo."

"See ya, Kegami. Good luck, Sasori," Jidanbo said.

Sasori nodded at the oddly polite giant and trailed after the other. This part had gone smoothly. Now he wondered how well he would do on the exams. Either way it should prove to be interesting for him.

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Sasori looked up at the large school before him and could honestly say that he was impressed. The entire city was very sterile looking, a direct contrast to the grunginess of the Rukon district. He couldn't recall seeing anything like it while in his own world as well. All in all, it actually looked like what a utopian heavenly society should look like, even though Sasori knew better than that.

"Hurry up!" the brown-haired, plain-looking Shinigami named Kegami called to him and Sasori realized that his pace had slowed.

He quickened his pace, now walking directly behind the other and Kegami rolled his eyes before taking him through the front gates.

The courtyard was similar in design to the rest of the city, white, clean-looking, utilitarian. They passed through it quickly and arrived at what Sasori assumed was some sort of administrative office.

"We have one for an entrance exam," Kegami said to another shinigami that was sitting at a desk.

This shinigami had the 'teacher' air about her, her hair was neatly pinned back into a bun and she peered at the two of them from over a pair of square shaped spectacles.

"Name?" she asked, pulling out some forms and an ink brush from one of the drawers in her desk. Kegami turned his head to look at Sasori and raised an eyebrow that said 'well?'

"Sasori."

"Surname?" she asked, her nasally voice a little grating on the nerves.

"None."

Her eyes flicked up, but any surprise that might have been there passed too quickly for wither of the men to see and she continued.

"The next available time for the test is in thirty minutes. You will be tested on your capacity of spiritual energy and your ability to manipulate it. You will also be tested on general knowledge and your skill in hand-to-hand combat as well as swordsmanship so that we know what you're capable of and where we should place you."

"Are there any questions?" she finished reading from the paper in front of her and gave the red head an unimpressed look, one similar to all the others he had been recieving since he had stepped through the west gate.

"No," Sasori answered promptly, his stare matching hers.

"Very well then," she said. "Sign here and when you're finished you may step through that door over there. You'll be called in when the proctors are ready."

Sasori stepped forward and took the brush that was being handed to him. He signed his name quickly, with little flourish and set the brush back down onto the desk.

Kegami saw that there was no point in wishing the stoic young man any luck, so he waved goodbye to the other shinigami and he left. Sasori spared him a glance before he walked over to the door that the woman had indicated and opened it.

He was met with stark white room, another door on the other side and the walls lined with benches. He sat down on the one closest to the door he had just came through and prepared himself to do the one thing that he despised most. Waiting.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter fourteen**

"Have you seen the scores on this kid?" one of the academy administrators whispered to one of his co-workers.

"What did another Rukongai rat make it in?" he said as he looked through some of his papers.

"Well, yes, but- here, look at this," the other insisted, showing the copies of the new student's test scores in front of the other.

"What- Yagumo, I'm trying to work here!"

"Just look at them, Tagami! They're not like the scores that we normally get from the Rukongai students," Yagumo insisted.

"What? Did he manage to spell his own name?" Tagami asked wryly.

"More than that! Just look!"

"Fine," Tagami grumbled taking the test scores from his friend and looked at them. Yagumo watched the other's face intensely and couldn't help but grin when he saw his eyes widen and his mouth drop open.

"See what I mean?" Yagumo asked, feeling pleased with himself from managing to make the uptight Mr. Tagami lose his composure.

"This... did he cheat?" Tagami asked.

"I don't think so, there was no one else taking the test today," Yagumo explained. "There was no way for him to cheat and the proctors said that he was confident throughout the whole thing, one of them even thought that he looked _bored_."

"_Bored_?" Tagami said incredulously.

"Well, at least that's what Ogawa said, the others just talked about how sure of himself he was and how it took him almost no time to do whatever they asked of him," Yagumo said.

"Well then..." Tagami huffed, feeling a little confused, but trying to hide it by shuffling through some of his own papers. "Whatever. Stop bothering me, I have to get back to work!"

"Yeah, yeah," Yagumo grinned. "Just wanted to let you know. He's being put into all the advanced classes. Some are even saying that he's the newest prodigy."

"Newest prodigy," Tagami scoffed. "I wouldn't go that far..."

"Well, you never know," Yagumo said as he shrugged his shoulders and took back the test results. "We haven't had one in a while. I'd say that we were due for another sooner or later."

"That isn't how it works," Tagami hissed, furiously rifling through his paperwork.

"Well, whatever," Yagumo said with a grin. "Just wanted to let you know. See you at lunch time?"

"Sure," Tagami sighed glad that one of his more obnoxious friends was going elsewhere. "See you later."

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Sasori looked around the academy's campus as he was being shown around by one of the professors that taught at the institution. He was explaining to him that locations of his classes, eating halls, libraries, study halls, dormitories, gymnasiums, training grounds, teacher's facilities, administrative offices, and everything else that the academy had to offer. The professor also told him that he would be taking him to get his uniform, his schedule, and his room assignment after the tour was completed. Luckily for him, the new term wasn't due to start for a couple of days and he would be able to prepare himself before the term began.

"Do you have any questions before we end the tour and go to get your set of uniforms?" the professor asked, turning to look at Sasori.

Sasori thought for a moment and ultimately decided that the questions he had would probably be answered in his classes. Boredom had set in during the long tour around the academy's sizable grounds and he just wanted to get his stuff and settle into whatever room he would be assigned to. Apparently he would also be getting a 'roommate'. Hopefully they wouldn't annoy him _too_ much.

"I'm fine," Sasori replied, looking at the other with his usual apathetic heavy lidded gaze.

Apparently this professor found his expression to be as unnerving as most other people thought it was and they quickly made their way over to where the academy supplied students with their uniforms.

It took them little time to find something in Sasori's size, seeing as he wasn't especially large or small in size. Apparently the academy did see a wide variety in size for uniforms, some of which had to be specially ordered in advance, but luckily Sasori was average at best.

After this they stopped by one of the administrative offices that had created Sasori's class schedule. Apparently Sasori had been sorted into the 'advanced' classes, whatever that meant. When he had been enrolled at the ninja academy in Suna, there hadn't been enough children for them to make distinctions between classes.

But he had been put in advanced kidou, hakudo, hohou, and kenjutsu for first years. This would continue for the next six years, steadily advancing in each subject until around the fourth year when he would begin to specialize his fields. Apparently you could begin specializing in different fields such as the biology, technology, communications, chemistry, intensive hakudo or kenjutsu training, or programs that would prepare you for either the onmitsukido or the kidou corps.

Sasori wondering which ones he would decide to 'specialize' in. Of course, when he had been younger his own specialization had already been chosen for him. However, since this option was no longer open to him it would be interesting to discover which academic path would be most suitable for him.

"You've been assigned to room number three-eight-four in the boys' west wing."

Sasori was jolted from his musings by the professor, Mr. Akemi.

"Your roommate already arrived a few days ago," Akemi continued. "He'll let you know the ins and outs of your new living area."

Sasori thought it was a little inconsiderable of him to just dump the responsibility of finishing his tour to some guy who had only just arrived a few days ago. But it seemed that he didn't really have a choice in the matter and he simply had to hope that the other guy felt like telling him where the bathrooms were and where he should go if he felt thirsty at one o'clock in the morning.

"Alright then," Akemi stopped at the door that was marked three-eight-four and handed Sasori the key. Sasori took it with the hand that wasn't holding his new uniforms and his schedule.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask your roommate, your peers, or any of the faculty. Have a pleasant first day of school. It starts on Wednesday," Akemi told him before clapping him on the shoulder and walking away.

Sasori looked over his shoulder at the retreating figure and glared slightly. He truly disliked people that wasted his time like that by neglecting their jobs, especially since introducing himself to his new roommate promised to be painfully awkward. But, since he didn't really have much of choice, he might as well open the door.

"Hello?" Sasori called as he opened the door with his key and poked his head in.

"'Allo? 'oo iz zere?" a voice called out.

Sasori walked through the door and passed through a short hallway that had what looked like a small closet and/or pantry door to the left side. Sasori also had to climb up a step, kicking off his shoes on the mat that was obviously there for people to leave them there.

"Your new roommate," Sasori got right to the point.

"Sheet," his new roommate cursed. Sasori raised an eyebrow at the expletive, and at the thick accent. Suddenly he heard a muffled thumping and he walked farther into the room.

To his immediate left there was a bed stuck into the corner with a small night table attached and a dresser at the other end, a similar configuration could be seen on his right, but unlike the left side it seemed to be occupied. At the end of the room there was a large window flooding the room with light and two desks were standing next to each other under it. On the far right wall there was another doorway that Sasori guessed contained his cursing roommate.

"'Oo ze fuck screwed up because I was told zat I would be getting a room of my own!"

Sasori placed his things down on his bed and turned to raise an eyebrow at the door that had just slammed open and his roommate came scowling into the room. He was actually one of the scruffier people that he had seen in quite some time. He had scruffy, unwashed brown hair that looked as if it had bits of dirt stuck in it, dark eyebrows, dark, irritable eyes, the skin around his eyes looked prematurely wrinkled and there were dark bags underlining them as well. Sasori looked closely at the cigarette was resting to the side of a pair of scowling lips and wondered where he had managed to find any in this technologically backwards afterlife. To top this all of he had yet to change into his school uniform and was wearing a black t-shirt, brown slacks, and a pair of fingerless gloves. Oh, and he had a shovel strapped to his back to complete the image which also explained all of the random dirt stains that could be seen on his clothes and on various parts of his body. Sasori just wondered where the boy had managed to find a pair of pants...

"So? 'Oo are you?" the man asked crossing his arms.

"...your roommate?" Sasori said slowly as if he was talking to someone that was particularly dense.

"You know what I meen, beetch," the man narrowed his eyebrows and took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke blowing out from his nose. "Tell me your _name."_

Sasori narrowed his eyes a bit, but not enough for someone like this...thing...to know.

"Sasori."

"Iz zat so?" he grumbled. "Well, I don't appreciate ze surprise, when did you get 'ere?"

"Two hours ago," Sasori told him.

"Ughhh," he gave a disgusted sigh. "Ze ugly, annoying, twitchy one just left you 'ere, didn't 'e? Akemi? I knew I would not like zat one."

"Yes," Sasori said, agreeing with most of what he had said except for the twitching part. He couldn't recall the man ever twitching in his presence, but perhaps the amount of dirt that seemed to exist on this man's person brought out the OCD in the professor.

"Well, since we seem to be stuck 'ere togezer for some time, I suppose I should tell you my name," the man said thoughtfully, almost to himself. "My name iz Christophe DeLorne, otherwise known as 'Ze Mole', but I am not at work."

"... 'ze mole?" Sasori had to repeat. He wasn't sure he had heard that correctly.

"Yes," Christophe said his eyebrows furrowed deeper, creating more lines on his face. "Do you have a fucking problem with zat, beetch?"

'He called me a bitch again,' Sasori thought, his anger worsening by the second.

"Not with that, no," Sasori answered honestly. "But call me a bitch again and I'll rearrange your internal organs so that you'll be spewing blood for hours until you die a painful death. Again."

Instead of infuriating the man further like Sasori had predicted, it only seemed to amuse him and he let a slight smile grace his lips.

"Well, it seems zat we might get along after all," Christophe said, putting his hands on his hips and looking at Sasori appraisingly. "But if you touch any of my things I shall 'ave to keel and bury you with my shovel."

Sasori rolled his eyes and shrugged indicating that he didn't really care what the hell the other was saying. And he didn't really care about the other's belongings.

"As long as you don't touch any of mine."

"Zat iz acceptable," Christophe said as he plopped down on his bed, leaning forwards and resting his forearms on top of his knees.

Sasori was weirded out once again about the intense stare he was receiving from his decidedly _very_ weird new roommate.

'Whatever,' he thought to himself irritably as he opened up his bag and started taking out some of things he carried with him. He would fold and put away his uniforms last, his own stuff taking priority over clothing he had received just a few moments ago. Although when he had taken out his puppets and some of his wood working skills, he noticed a sudden increased intensity in the stare he was getting from the person on the other side of the room.

"Were you Japanese?" Christophe asked suddenly.

"What?" Sasori asked, rather confused at the sudden question that didn't really make sense.

"Japanese? Were you from ze country of Japan?" Christophe clarified with a roll of his eyes.

"Where's Japan?" Sasori asked, as far as he knew there was no such country in the world he had come from. This, however, only furthered Christophe's confusion.

"You are from ze Rukon, yes?"

"...yeah," Sasori replied, not sure where this line of questioning was going and why this had anything to do with the existence of 'Japan'.

"And you are speaking Japanese, yes?"

Sasori stared at him blankly. He wasn't aware that the language he was speaking had any specific name. Everyone in the elemental continent spoke the language he was speaking. Occasionally a certain region had recognizable accent, but that was as far as it went. There were rumors that different languages existed in other parts of the world, but mostly it was believed to by myth and no one had ever thought to go out and check.

"Ze language that you are speaking now," Christophe said slowly as if _he_ was now the one who was trying to communicate with someone particularly stupid. "It iz ze same as the one ze others are speaking, oui?"

And Sasori didn't know what 'oui' meant, but he was going to take a leap of faith and take that the other meant it as a 'yes'.

"...yes?" Sasori answered.

"Zen you are speaking Japanese," Christophe finished explaining, still looking a little frustrated. "But you 'ave never 'eard of Japan?"

"No," Sasori said shortly, getting frustrated with the other's fixation with a country that he had never heard of.

"Well, I suppose zat you do not _look_ Japanese," he mumbled to himself. "I 'ave never seen nor 'eard of a Japanese ginger..."

Sasori had also never heard of the term 'ginger' applied to a person before, but he wondered what a plant had to do with a person, especially him. This Christophe was weird...extremely weird...Maybe he was perhaps, insane or mentally retarded. The possibility seemed highly likely.

"What country are you from?" Christophe decided to get right to the heart of the matter.

"Why?"

Christophe gave a frustrated sigh and he took another drag from his cigarette, "Because, I am curious. Although you are not Japanese, it iz weird zat you 'ave not 'eard of ze country yet you speak ze language."

"Wind."

Christophe blinked at the sudden answer that he wasn't really sure _was_ an answer.

"Wind? What about it?"

"You asked what country I'm from," Sasori said. "Wind country."

"...wind country."

"Yes."

"..."

Sasori raised an eyebrow at the blank look on the other man's face.

"...you... 'ave died right? You were not born 'ere in ze Soul Society?"

"Yes," Sasori said, frowning. Why were they still discussing this?

"I died about a month or so ago."

"Uh-huh," Christophe grunted, taking a few more drags on his cigarette, flicking the ashes into a cup that he had sitting on his side table. He ran a hair through his hair, making it look even messier than before, if that was even possible.

"Well, I am also from ze land of ze living and I 'ave never 'eard of a place called 'wind country'. As far as I know, no one has gave their country such a odd sounding name."

"Okay?" Sasori was wondering why this mattered to the other so much. So he had never heard of wind country before, why was it such a big deal?

"Well, last time I checked, all of the countries of ze world have been discovered," Christophe said flatly. "So either you are crazy or you are not from ze planet Earth, but somehow you speak Japanese."

"You said that I speak Japanese," Sasori reminded him.

"You are speaking it right now!" Christophe shouted, looking angry. "Perhaps I should 'unt down zat worthless bastard and tell him zat I don't want a crazy for a roommate."

"Do what you like," Sasori responded mildly. He mentally rolled his eyes, if anyone was a crazy, it was Christophe, not Sasori. "But it doesn't change the fact that I have never heard of a 'Japan' before, so I guess that we're even."

Christophe huffed, but didn't get up to go tell anyone that his mind was addled. He continued to stare at Sasori as he continued to unpack, but Sasori decided to ignore him as he had done before. Hopefully, the other would get over whatever problem he had with this situation and leave him alone. If not, he could always make good on his promise for reconstructive surgery on his internal organs. He hadn't done anything fun in a while.

Sasori had put most of his things away by the time afternoon had arrived. All of his clothes had been washed during his stay at the Shiba household, courtesy of her assistants, and those were the first things that he had put away in his new set of dresser drawers. Next he had rearranged his puppets and his tools, putting the majority of those things on his desk so that he would have a proper work space. Perhaps he could eventually utilize the corner space that existed between his dresser and the desk for future projects.

His money had been tucked away with his clothes and the leftover food that he had, left covered and neatly organized it in one of the drawers of his bedside table. The travel bedding he had been carrying with him now seemed to be obsolete so he folded that and fit it into the bottom dresser drawer, leaving the middle one empty for him to put his uniforms.

All the while, Christophe was still in the same position, smoking cigarettes, and giving Sasori his full attention as he busied himself with his own things. Sasori knew that pretty soon his already thin patience would run even thinner and he wouldn't be responsible for any of his actions. Maybe if he had managed to pick up some of those chemicals he could have made some untraceable poisons... ah, well. Wishful thinking never really got a person anywhere.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter fifteen**

"So let us assume zat you are not, as zey say, crazy as a fruit basket," Christophe began the next day as they were walking to the cafeteria. "And zat there iz another world out there, why did you come 'ere instead of going... where ever it iz zat you might go?"

"Why do you assume that I would know the answers to these questions?" Sasori asked, very annoyed at his roommate.

His voice steady although it really felt as if he was really going to snap sometime today and kill everyone that happened to be near him. He could do it too. He had been a S-Rank criminal long enough that he knew how to kill a room full of people with only a chopstick in hand and as luck would have it he happened to have two in his possession. Then Sasori began to ponder over the simile, "crazy as a fruit basket". Why would a fruit basket be crazy? Whoever made that simile/idiom crazy. Maybe that was the meaning to the term.

"Well, maybe you don't, but did you come 'ere right after you died or was zere anything unusual?" he continued to question.

"I've never died before so I have no idea whether or not what I experienced was unusual. In fact, I barely remember it," Sasori told him as they both sat down to eat. It was odd, for some reason most of the people in the cafeteria seemed to be actively avoiding the two of them.

'Well...'

Sasori looked at his grungy and shady looking companion and figured that it wasn't that much of a mystery. If he had seen this kid grumbling up a storm in the same room as him, he probably would've left him alone too. Although as luck would have it, he didn't have much of a choice.

"I am just trying to make sense of a convoluted situation," Christophe muttered, a deep frown marring the skin around his face. Sasori felt that it would probably benefit the other if he made him into a puppet. He would be infinitely less offensive to the people around him. He wouldn't smoke, curse, shed dirt, or leave wrinkle marks on his face with his never-ending scowls. Plus he wouldn't talk to him or stare at him, all positives in his opinion.

"It iz probably ze work of zat fucking faggot in ze sky," Christophe mumbled. "He continues his work of making my life miserable. I am not surprised."

"Wait, what?" Sasori stopped eating to stare at the other. Had he just heard what he thought he had?

"God?" Christophe rolled his eyes as if Sasori should really know what he was talking about. "'e is a cocksucking asshole, yes? And so I call him a faggot... among other things."

"...right."

Apparently Sasori had found himself a weirder version of Hidan. They were both inappropriate and were obsessed with some kind of God and they both cursed like it was their job. Hopefully Sasori wouldn't feel the sudden need to rip people's hearts out and collect money for them or something. He hadn't really liked Kakuzu so he doubted it.

"Well, I am zust trying to create some converzation," Christophe continued. "It seems zat I really will be stuck with you zis year so I might as well get used to it."

"Indeed," Sasori replied. "So you've decided not to have me kicked out of the room for being a 'crazy'?"

"No, of course not," Christophe said, waving a hand in the air as if what Sasori had said was ridiculous. "Well... I did try, but apparently zey said zat they did not care and zat I 'ad to, as zey say, 'suck it up'."

"Really," Sasori said. He wondered if they would reconsider if he requested someone else too.

"So, 'ere I am, stuck with you, so I try to figure out your situation 'ere."

"I didn't know that I had a 'situation'."

Christophe scowled at the other, "I thought that it was obvious zat you do. After all, do you not think zat it iz odd that the worlds zat we come from are not ze same?"

"Not really," Sasori said, mostly to annoy the other since he actually _was_kind of interested in why there was a difference between the worlds. Was Sasori the anomaly or was he? How did things like this happen? He had a feeling that he might not be able to ask the shinigami here either. Although this was their area of expertise, if it was too out of the ordinary, he didn't want to put himself under too much scrutiny.

"Zat iz bullsheet," Christophe said rather matter-of-factly, pointing at him with his cigarette in his hand. "You must be curious as well. 'ow could you not be?"

"You are mistaken," Sasori lied. "The only thing that I am curious about is our upcoming classes... and maybe about why you talk weird."

Christophe eyebrows raised in surprise for a few seconds before they plunged again to form his customary scowling face.

"I do not talk weird," Christophe protested, although it was fairly pointless since he did have a rather obvious accent. "I am French."

He gave a weary sigh when he saw the blank face on Sasori's face and debated whether he should even bother explaining this time.

"My native language is French?" Christophe tried explaining, even though he knew that it was kind of useless. "Meaning I am from France?"

"And France is another one of your countries then?" Sasori guessed absent-mindedly, not really interested in the conversation.

"Yes," Christophe scowled at the other. "I lived zere until I was about ten. Zen I moved to some sheet place in Colorado. It's in a place called America... not zat this means anything to you."

"Not really," Sasori admitted. "How old were you when you died?"

"Well..." Christophe began, looking a little uncomfortable. "It iz a bit of a long story, considering ze fact zat ze first time zat I died was when I was 11, but I got better."

Sasori decided not to question it. He didn't care, he _really_ didn't.

"I am a mercenary, or I _was_, I suppose," he said, mostly to himself, although this part of the Frenchman's babble actually interested him.

Mercenaries were known for being moral less, kind less, vagrants in his time, since most of the commissions would go to the shinobi of hidden villages. But still, it was interesting to find someone like this after he had died. And it really didn't surprise him, now that he thought about it, that this was his roommate's occupation before he passed on to the Soul Society. He certainly did look the part.

"So one day, I am at the ripe old age of about, mm, nineteen, I am on a mission and things are going well until, well, things go wrong I suppose," Christophe continued, leaving Sasori to wonder if he was _trying_ to be as vague as possible. "And zen ze fucking guard dogs show up!"

Christophe banged a fist on the table, startling Sasori and several others around them with the suddenness of his declaration.

"It wasn't enough zat those fucking things had to kill me the first time around, but ze second? I'd rather be shot in the ass and die by infection!" Christophe told the air around him passionately, it was obvious that he was not really directing his complaints at any one in particular anymore and was simply cursing the unfairness of life and death in general.

"At least zis time I did not go to hell," Christophe continued after calming down. "Zey fucking put me in ze non-smoking section the last time, rat bastards."

Sasori honestly had nothing to say to that. He couldn't even think of a snarky or subtly insulting comment to somehow express how utterly fucked up this entire thing was.

"So?" Christophe raised an eyebrow and flicked some of his ashes into an empty cup, which was probably going to be giving the kitchen staff nightmares for weeks.

"So what?"

"What about you?" Christophe wheedled. "I 'ave told you about my death, both of them, what about yours?"

Sasori thought about his own death for a moment, considering how this would sound to someone who knew nothing about the world he had lived in for so long. Perhaps Christophe would understand better than others the kind of life that he had led, seeing that he wasn't exactly on the right side of the law himself, but it wasn't something that he wanted to discuss at random. Especially not in the cafeteria and ideally not at all.

"It's complicated," was all that Sasori said.

"'It's complicated'," Christophe mocked, making Sasori's eye twitch. "And you think zat my own wasn't?"

"You were attacked by guard dogs," Sasori said, trying to indicate that the other's death hadn't really been that complicated.

"Yes, well, when you say it like zat, but you know zere iz more to it," Christophe insisted. "Tell me."

"Fine. I was stabbed in the heart," Sasori said, leaving it at that.

"Figuratively or literally?" Christophe asked, looking intrigued with an eyebrow raised. Sasori gave him a look for it.

"Literally. How can someone die by being stabbed in the heart figuratively?"

Christophe shrugged, "It could happen. Who stabbed you?"

"That's the complicated part," Sasori confessed.

"Complicated? What iz complicated about it? Who was on ze other end of what stabbed you?" Christophe pressed.

"... like I said. It's complicated," Sasori insisted. He couldn't very well say that the puppet corpses of his parents had stabbed him when they had been in control of his ancient grandmother whom he had probably marked for death already by stabbing her with one of his poisoned weapons. It was as he said. Complicated.

"Fine, if you insist," he grumbled. Although Sasori guessed that he would be on his case later about the details as well as for more information about the world he lived in.

"I do," Sasori said, finishing off his food and picking up his empty tray so that he could discard it. "I'll be stopping by the library."

"What for?" Christophe asked curiously.

"To begin studying."

"But school 'as not even begun yet!" Christophe protested.

"I'd still like to see what we're going to be learning."

Apparently he and Christophe had been put in the same classes as well. How this had happened, Sasori had no idea.

"Fine zen, party pooper," Christophe conceded, shoving his hands into his pockets and drifting towards the direction of their room. "'ave fun being boring."

Sasori didn't even bother to answer as he walked away. Why did he always end up in the company of the most annoying people? He would honestly take Deidara over the French boy at this moment. At least the psychotic blond respected him. All in all, it promised to be a long six years...

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Sasori had left the cafeteria, along with Christophe, glad to be rid of him and having some time alone. The silence allowed him to think better. Absentmindedly walking towards the library, Sasori decided it was a good time to think about what Christophe had said. Why _had _he ended up in this world? And where was this 'Japan' he kept talking about? Sasori couldn't help but wonder, what was the living world that Christophe was talking about like? Was it any different than what his world was like? Too occupied with his thoughts, he almost didn't notice another presence in the hallway until he spoke up.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

Sasori examined him, he looked very skeletal, with a skull-like visage. The black and white facial paintings reminded him of Zetsu, but it was in a different pattern. His face is painted white with the inner portion of his face painted black except for his nose. His eyes were golden and his teeth were bared, giving the appearance of him smiling creepily. Sasori assumed that him baring his teeth was a habit. Both his ears are seemingly replaced with stubbed golden cones and his hair was blue and looked like a lion's mane while he wore a purple scarf around his neck. Sasori raised an eyebrow at his question.

The man tensed up, clearly annoyed. "Who are you?" he slowly enunciated much like an adult speaking to a dense child. This only made Sasori's eyebrow arch higher, showing his annoyance as well.

"I am none of your concern." Sasori stated flatly. He stepped to the side and took a step forward, but before he could set his foot down, the man side stepped in front of him.

"Since you nearly bumped into me, you _are_ of my concern. I will only repeat this once more before I kill you." Mayuri's golden eyes bore into Sasori's. Not wanting to cause trouble (if not necessary), Sasori decided it would do no harm in telling him his name.

"Sasori." He stared at the man.

"Sasori?" the man repeated.

The redhead's eye narrowed a millimeter, just wanting to get this over with and study in the library.

"Why haven't I seen you before? Are you a new soul perhaps?" the man asked.

"You haven't given me your name yet." Sasori ignored his question. His eyes narrowed slightly, though being the shinobi he was, Sasori noticed. Though he had answered nonetheless.

"Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Now answer my question."

"Yes, I am." Sasori continued to stare. Mayuri did as well.

"How long did you die?" Sasori wondered why everyone asked this question.

"A month or so." Sasori answered nonchalantly.

"At age 15?" Mayuri studied Sasori's features. The ex-shinobi had to resist the urge to smirk.

"35 actually," he corrected.

Mayuri's eyebrow raised. "How do you look so young?"

Sasori side stepped once again while answering, "Classified," and walked away from a pondering Mayuri.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Resting his chin on his palm, Sasori had spread out numerous books across the large table he sat in front of. He had been stuffing and feeding his brain numerous information on reiatsu, how to control it, Shikai, Bankai, hohou, kidou, and more. And honestly, Sasori was _bored_. He had had enough of studying and learning stuff like this when he was a kid in the shinobi academy. And the redhead did not enjoy the thought of having to go through it again. Shuffling through the many notes he had took during the read, he closed all the books and placed them in the 'Return Books' slot, only to go through the many aisles of books once again. By now, Sasori's mind wondered about Christophe's words _again_, and he couldn't help but be curious about it.

So here he was, ransacking through the shelves of the colossal, yet empty, library of the academy just for a book about 'unusual deaths' that might occur. After flipping through at least hundreds of books, he still couldn't find a thing. Of course, Sasori had a very low patience, so he was nearly about to rip his hair off by the end of all this. As calmly as he could, he tried to convince himself that ripping out his hair would do no good, so he got rid of the thought. However, he was still not given the answer at the thousandth book. Not even a teensy lil' hint on the subject! Sasori bit down on his tongue to refrain from screaming aloud in agony and exhaustion.

Instead of screaming, Sasori hurled the book he was currently clutching tightly in his grasp across the room. As if screaming, the book cracked with a high pitched noise when it collided with the shelf and made a loud **thud** sound as it dropped onto the floor. Slamming his elbows down on the table with his head bowed down, his fingers nearly ripped out every single piece of hair he had on top of his head. Luckily he had more self-control, though his fingers still held a dead lock with his red locks.

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"Where vere 'oo?" Christophe asked the red headed man, his hair even more messier than usual.

"Library, I told you." Sasori narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"What happened to your hair? It looks like a bird's nest az zey say," his roommate scoffed.

"Whatever," Sasori rolled his eyes. "So how'd your party go?" the man acted like he cared when in reality, he never did and never will.

"Blah. It was so-"

"Actually never mind, I don't want to be bored to death." Sasori interrupted bluntly, rubbing his temples for the oncoming headache. Christophe crossed his arms.

"Fine, be like zat. Agh, whatever. I'm going to zleep." And with that, he reached over to the nightstand beside the bed that had a lamp sitting on it. Pressing down on the button, the room immediately darkened.

Ruffles of bed sheets were the only sound in the room, save for the two's breathing. Sasori crossed his arms behind his head, using it as a pillow while he stared at the ceiling. With a sigh and a turn, he closed his chocolate brown eyes and rested for a bit. However, when he closed his eyes, he was standing in a realm of darkness. All he saw was black and nothing else. Turning to find out where he was, the darkness gradually lifted, being replaced by a...desert...? Looking at the blood stained red sand and the dark, ominous clouds roll in the black skies, Sasori let a smile grace his lips, fond of the memory of the bloodbath they called The Third Shinobi War. However, the smile quickly faded when a thought popped up in his mind. 'Where...where am I? Is this a dream?' he thought.

"I guess you could say that." Sasori whipped around to find the source of the voice. However, when a familiar looking redhead with razor blades jutting out from his back and casually sitting on a rock a few feet away from him, his body tensed up yet again.

"Who are you? Where am I? Is this a Genjutsu?" Sasori questioned his duplicate with a glare. His duplicate smirked, one arm behind his back and leaning on the rock while the other was on his propped up right knee.

"And here I thought I'd be a tad bit more intelligent," the duplicate smiled an innocent smile while Sasori's glare intensified. The duplicate sighed and rolled his eyes. "Akasuna no Sasori," he finally answered.

At this, Sasori raised his eyebrow. "What do you-"

Akasuna smirked, "We'll meet again. Real soon," then mumbled something that Sasori couldn't hear, but sounded somethin' like 'with you and your patience'.

"Wa-"

A gust of wind blasted sand everywhere, making Sasori shield his eyes with his arms. The sand began to swirl around him, making him inhale some of the sand. Coughing, Sasori shut his eyes tight while gritting his teeth.

"Oi! Wake up be- bastard!" Sasori gasped and sprang up to a sitting position. Blinking, he turned his head around to examine his whereabouts. His room...?

"Wh-what...?" Sasori grasped the side of his head, which was throbbing from a headache.

"'oo kept choking or something in your zleep, I thought that 'oo vere having an asthma attack or some sheet." Christophe appeared beside Sasori's bed, rolling a shirt down his messy brown head. "So what happened to 'oo?" Sasori calmed down, his eyes back to their lazy half-closed state.

"Nothing," he spat and threw the covers away from him, hopping outta bed and into the bathroom.

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"Ohayou! Are you the new student?" A girl with dark hair in pigtails tied at the base of her neck greeted Sasori and was currently invading his personal bubble. Backing away to regain the space he lost, Sasori looked back at the girl.

"Hai..." He eyed the girl strangely. Frankly, she annoyed him since he disliked overly bubbly and cheery people. Not to mention nosy.

"I'm Momo!" She held out her hand.

"Sasori," he reluctantly joined hands with her, shaking it slightly.

"Momo! Ah, see you've made friends with the new student already?" The blonde walked over to Sasori's direction. His red eyebrow involuntarily twitched. More brats to irritate him.

"Oh? Who's this?" Great, just Sasori's luck, a redhead sauntered over here as well, red hair tied back.

"Kira! Renji! This is Sasori," the girl exclaimed.

"Line up you maggots!" The teacher yelled, smacking his bamboo stick on the ground for extra effect.

Immediately, everyone piled into position. Momo closed her mouth and scurried to where she was suppose to be along with Kira and Renji following close behind. The students were now in a six by four lined up position, much like the military. The teacher marched in front, slowly while inspecting everyone. There were a few times where someone got smacked with the bamboo stick since 'their backs weren't straight enough' or 'their knees buckled too much' or some poor excuse like that.

"Alright maggots, time for practicing Kido!" The proctor walked in front of Sasori and Christophe (who was next to him). "New kids eh? Let's see what you can do...Bring out the dummies!"

"Hai!" A few of the minor proctors saluted and rushed to get the dummies in place.

"The two of you know Kido?" The proctor questioned.

"Ehh, more or less," Christophe waved his hand in a sideways motion.

"Why don't you go ahead first then?" The proctor smirked.

Christophe shrugged his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, stepping forward to where the dummies were. Sasori stepped forward also, though not as close.

He whispered, "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Of course I do. What do you take me for? An eediot?"

"I don't think you wanna know my answer," Sasori mumbled so he couldn't hear, but still rolled his eyes.

Christophe closed his eyes, extending his right arm outward towards the dummy, left hand gripping his right wrist. He opened his mouth and mumbled something.

_"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, ze sea barrier surges, march on to ze south!_"

A red ball of what seemed like light appeared at his palm but was thrust forward at the dummy. In less than a second, the dummy exploded to smithereens. Sasori wrinkled his nose in slight disgust, being reminded of Deidara's...'art'...as he called it. Burnt hay scattered through the area, dropping at the shocked Shinigami students' feet.

"That...you...it...," the proctor started before clearing his throat. "Whatever. Redhead, you take a go."

The said redhead resisted the urge to roll his eyes; instead, taking a step forward and doing the same thing that Christophe did, except in at a faster pace. After all, the puppet master hated to be kept waiting and to make others wait. When the smithereens flew in the sky, Sasori quickly shot another Shakkahō at them and even the remains of the dummy were soon nonexistent. Sasori turned back to see the expressions on his peers and proctors, pleased with the bug-eyed and jaw dropping expressions on everyone's face. This year was going to be easy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter seventeen**

-5 months later-

"What's with this kid?" Captain Kyōraku held paper in his hand, examining it with his lazy grey eyes. "His scores are through the roof."

"Yes...they are, which is why I decided to graduate him earlier than most of the students. Anyone wants to take him in their Squad?" Captain-Commander Yamamoto asked the twelve captains lined up in the main hall of the First Division Headquarters.

"Excuse me, Captain Yamamoto, but I'd like to-" Captain Ukitake began but was cut off by Captain Kurotsuchi.

"Nonsense Captain Ukitake, he'd be better off in my Squad. Captain Yamamoto, if you will, move him to my Squad." Captain Kurotsuchi demanded, with only the thought on experimenting on the redhead in order to find out his secret. Everyone, including Captain Ukitake, clamped their mouths shut at this.

"Now...are there any objections to Sasori being sent to Captain Kurotsuchi's Squad, the 12th Division?" the Captain Commander asked.

"No," everyone declined.

"Very well then, I hereby transfer Sasori to Captain Kurotsuchi's Squad, the 12th Division. Guards, inform Sasori immediately."

"Hai," the guards said in unison and rushed off to find him.

* * *

"Sasori! There you are!" Momo ran to Sasori's side and held up a bento box high enough for Sasori to see. "I made a bento for you!"

"A-ah...arigatou..." Sasori slowly inched away from the dark haired girl, taking the bento off of her hands while he was at it. "So where's Renji and Kira?"

"Oh, they're practicing their swordsmenship. I assume that you and Christophe have been doing well in your classes?" the girl asked, trying to start up a conversation.

"Christophe's an idiot," he spat.

"Oi, I am ze right here! I heard zat!" Christophe spat, sitting next to Sasori who was now unwrapping the bento and eating the contents.

"Zat was ze whole purpose," Sasori mocked his accent, a thing he's been doing now, just to annoy the brunette.

"Why you lil' bastard," he growled.

"U-uh...so...how's the bento taste, Sasori?" Momo tried to avoid any fighting between those two.

"Okay, you need to add more salt," he poked one of the salty fish, which didn't really taste all that salty at all.

"If ze salty fish is not salty, waz ze point of naming it 'salty fish'?" Christophe read Sasori's mind.

"H-hai, gomennasai." Momo bowed.

"Is Sasori here?" an unknown voice boomed throughout the room, causing everyone to turn heads. Sasori, still having food in his mouth, silently chewed. Momo backed up a bit, a little frightened.

"What did you do this time?" Momo whispered.

"What? I didn't do anything," Sasori slightly glared at her, then continued to chew his food.

One of the guards caught the sight of bright red hair and started walking towards him, the other guards slowly following behind.

"You, are you Sasori?" he pointed at him.

Sasori didn't say a word and just continued to chew his food quietly. This, for some reason, angered the guard.

"Oi! Answer me you punk!"

Sasori only stared at him in response. This guard got angry so easily. Sasori decided that because he was being rather rude, he'll chew his food slowly just to anger him even more. And it did.

"Are you deaf? I said answer me!" the guard shouted.

"Oi! Stop screaming in my ear!" Christophe shouted back.

"Bastard, I wasn't talking to you!" the guard faced him and yelled.

"'Bastard, I wasn't talking to you'" Christophe mocked his tone, apparently a habit from picking one too many fights with Sasori.

The guard growled, "Why you..."

Momo tugged on Sasori's sleeve, who was now done chewing and gulped his food down his throat. "S-Sasori...can you do something? I don't want them to start fighting..."

Sasori sighed, but complied nonetheless. "Yeah, I'm Sasori. What do you need me for?"

This brought back all the attention of the guard. "We have been requested to escort you to your new division: 12th Division."

"12th...Division?" Sasori raised his eyebrow.

"Sasori! That's great! You're graduating way earlier than the rest of us," Momo beamed a smile at him, happy for her friend.

Christophe only rolled his eyes, "Showoff."

"Very well then," Sasori agreed then turned to Momo. "Tell Renji and Kira I said 'Goodbye, and it was worth while being friends with you guys.' I'll miss you, Momo." The redhead lied, only to make her feel happy (before crushing her when he leaves, hey, he's still an S-Rank criminal at heart).

At this, Momo's eyes shone like streetlights. "R-really? I'll miss you too Sasori!" and bowed.

Sasori turned to Christophe, "It's been...interesting, these past few months with you."

Christophe grunted, which Sasori translated to 'Yeah, whatever.'

"Goodbye, and I won't miss you a bit." Sasori smirked.

The brunette returned the smirk, "And I will enjoy having ze room all to myself."

"Selfish bastard."

"Arrogant showoff."

"S-"

"Okay okay! We get it! Stop fighting," Momo intervened before it could get too serious.

Sasori shrugged and turned to the guards, nodding a silent nod. The guards returned it and using **Shunpo** to the 12th Division barracks. The ex S-Rank criminal followed closely behind.

* * *

The room that Sasori had been assigned to was almost the same as Kuukaku's room that Sasori had had that chat with her in. The only difference was that the walls and door were more...darker, and there was a bed for him to sleep in and a desk to work on. Perhaps he should get more materials to work with. After all, he needed more puppets so he could actually battle. Kido, Hoho, and swordsmenship was no enough for the puppet master. He was the _puppet_ master after all.

Unpacking all his clothes, money, and other things, Sasori felt that he should go out and buy some more wood to work on. Walking towards the door, he slid it open and walked down the halls. With designs and blueprints in his mind, he hadn't notice until he almost bumped into someone again.

"Oi, stop bumping into me," the familiar voice rang in Sasori's head.

He backed up to see who it was, only to see none other than Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Narrowing his eyes, Sasori decided to question him.

"Why're you here?"

"Because I'm the Captain of the 12th Division," Captain Kurotsuchi's eyelids lowered due to Sasori's density on Soul Society. "And that's Captain Kurotsuchi to you."

"You? You're my captain?" Sasori asked bluntly, obviously not satisfied.

"Yes, you brat." Captain Kurotsuchi's eyes narrowed at the lack of respect.

"Yo-"

**PANG!**

A smirk grew on Captain Kurotsuchi's lips. Standing behind the unconscious Sasori who fell to the floor, Nemu's hand was slightly smoking from the impact.

"Good job, Nemu." And with that, Captain Kurotsuchi ordered Nemu to carry him back to his laboratory.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

When Sasori next regained consciousness, the first thing he thought was where the hell was he and why. He kept his eyes closed firmly. Shifting slightly, he could feel something cold and hard pressing against his bare back, as well as his wrists, ankles and forehead. After a few more seconds, he became aware of a shuffling sound in the background, accompanied by some murmuring. He couldn't make out the words though- he was too dizzy for that. It was like something heavy had hit him on the back of his...

_That's right... I was knocked out from behind by something while talking to Kurotuschi. Tch, how did I not notice? Look where I am now. _

Slowly, his mind began to whir.

_That son of a..._

By now, he had regained most of his senses. His limbs still felt like jelly but his hearing had improved. There was a slow bubbling sound in the background, as well as the clanging of metal and the rapid "tet" from a keyboard sounding nearby. He could recognize one of the voices now, too.

"There should be at least three more hours before his immediate disappearance is questioned, and two more before he wakes up. Nemu, scalpel."

"Yes," replied a polite female voice. There was the sound of soft footsteps before the noise stopped. Then the footsteps began again, two sets each going different ways: one back to where the keyboard sounds had come from, and to Sasori's annoyance and worry, the other towards him.

He knew he wouldn't be able to break out of the iron grasp of the metal holding parts of his body. His puppet self probably could, but it was already obvious that he wasn't that at the moment. Once again, Sasori felt a pang of annoyance at his own weakness. He pushed that matter to the side though- there were more important things to worry about.

The footsteps stopped, and Sasori became aware of a presence looming over him. He had to act quickly unless he wanted to be sliced up while still alive... or dead. He still wasn't quite sure.

_Scalpel... He asked that woman for a scalpel. If I assume that it's in his right hand, I can reach it with a chakra thread easily._

He could feel something descending down on him, nearing the top of his forehead. Then his eyes snapped open, the pointy tip of the lethal item staring him in the face. In the background was a different face, painted black and white with a look of surprise on his still-grinning features.

Quickly, Sasori twitched his finger, letting out a thread of invisible energy shoot out and attach itself to the surgical item. Another twitch succeeded in yanking it out of the Captain's grasp. A third movement sent the scalpel flying mercilessly at the person leaning over him, aiming for the exact spot the item was aiming to pierce Sasori earlier.

Of course, it wasn't as easy as it seemed, which Sasori was well aware of. Out of his other hand shot ten strings each, each one branching off into five smaller ones. The strings grabbed at anything that seemed lethal, quickly rising up a glinting army of scissors, knives, nails, scalpels and other such things. Then, all the items went flying at the man with cones on his ears. Glancing at the Captain who was no longer near the wall that was now impaled by numerous sharp objects, he could see that Mayuri was simply watching him from a distance, grin as wide as ever with Nemu typing away on a device hidden from his sight.

He could hear Mayuri murmur something quietly to himself, fascination in his voice. "How interesting..."

Sasori was briefly reminded of Orochimaru, inwardly shuddering at the two's similarities. Outwardly though, he simply stared at the captain through narrowed eyes, leaking out a bit of his killing intent. He made sure to keep watch on the woman as well.

"What does the screen say, Nemu?" asked the face painted man, eyes still trained on Sasori.

"His reiatsu is above average, and it shows some of it leaking out. There was also a line of it, connecting from his fingers to the items that were in the air," reported Nemu, watching the screen carefully for any change.

_Did that machine...? I need to stop being so careless and relaxed here. It's costing me._

"Release me," Sasori all but demanded. His brown eyes kept their bored look, but managed to look intimidating enough through his half lidded eyes.

"And what will you do if I refuse?"

At this, Sasori released all of his chakra, holding nothing back. His voice came out calm, but to the other two, it sounded like a growl at the same time. "Release me." At this, Sasori cast a genjutsu on the room. To the other occupants of the area, it would feel as if everything had stood still for them while they stayed alive. They would feel as if an immense pressure was bearing down on them, as well as being unable to breathe.

Nemu flinched, but Mayuri stayed still, an amused smile even wider than before plastered on to his face while his eyes scrunched up gleefully.

_Why isn't he affected? _Sasori had no time to wonder about that though, as his captor began to speak to him.

"I'll let you go under one condition," drawled the captain, making sure to enunciate every word clearly, sounding like every phrase was a an elastic pulled back.

"And what is this condition?" replied Sasori.

He could already think of multiple different conditions, none of them good. On the other hand, if he didn't accept the condition, he was sure to be cut up and shipped off to the place you go after you die... again. Or he might end up waking up normally, except without his kidney. Both scenarios weren't something that he'd want to have happening to him though. The real question that remained now is whether or not it would be worth it to accept the condition.

Kurotsuchi looked absolutely delighted at his question. He brought up both hands to his side, almost as if he were shrugging. "Well, you will let me train you for the rest of your shinigami career."

Sasori's mouth hung open while he blinked at Mayuri stupidly, surprise evident... or at least, that would have been how he reacted if he wasn't _the _Akasuna no Sasori, an ex S rank shinobi- and a missing nin at that. Instead, he simply kept his gaze on the crazy looking man as one eyebrow arched up inquiringly.

"How serious about this are you," Sasori couldn't help but ask. The condition was that he let the captain make him _stronger?_ It sounded too good to be true. Then again, said captain would probably also be training him just to analyze and take down notes on the red haired man...

"Very."

Sasori closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again, staring into the other man's golden ones.

"Deal. Now get me out of here."


End file.
